Nine Times Joe Cared for Barry and the One Time Barry Cared for Joe
by erynion
Summary: Series of oneshots that explore the relationship between Barry Allen and Detective Joe West and how much they care about each other. No slash. Pre-series.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! I started watching The Flash last weekend and I loved it so much that I had already watched the first 20 episodes before Grodd came to town. And then, well, this story happened. It is a WIP and real life is being worse than Reverse Flash at the moment, LOL, so updates will be slow (as all who read my other stories must already know). Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Flash. All rights belong to their respective owners.**

* * *

 **I**

It had been a few hours since he had been gotten out of the house, his house, as he kept repeating himself. He still felt too confused to process everything that had happen in just a matter of seconds. Some nights you have nightmares until you wake up, but others the real nightmares occur when you are pretty much awake. And that day had been one of those.

First, he had been beaten by Tom Woodward and the other bullies, and yet his smile had been genuine when his father had called him "slugger" while his mom took care of the bruises. But the demons didn't disappear when he went to bed, if anything the darkness of the night made them stronger, until his parents had calmed him down and had shown him why he didn't have to be afraid of the dark. He had fallen asleep, and when he thought that awful day was finally over, some noises downstairs had woken him up.

After that, everything was still confusing. He had seen water floating in the air as if time had stopped. And then he had seen his mother surrounded by two blurs, one red, one yellow; one of which was in fact a person dressed in yellow…

He closed his eyes when he felt them wet again; every time he felt there was no liquid left in his body it surprised him with more tears coming rapidly out of them. He opened them again when he heard the policeman in front of him clearing his throat. The young boy looked at the officer silently, waiting for him to speak; even though he didn't want to do that, he knew the sooner he was asked about everything, the sooner he could make them understand there had been a misunderstanding.

"It would over soon, kid, I promise"

Even though his words were gentle, his eyes were hard and cold as if they were made of stone. It was, Barry thought, like one of the times he had looked at his father in the eyes while he was working on a case. The doctor's eyes had always looked cold and calm and reflecting no emotion; it was all pure professionalism. Henry Allen wasn't Henry Allen those times, just Doctor Allen (although he switched back to Dad-mode when he realized Barry had been looking at him all the time). That moment, the officer in front of him, with cold and hard eyes and proudly wearing his blue uniform, was just another policeman eager to get the job done.

Barry sighed and wiped the tears from his eyes before giving a slight nod that didn't go unnoticed by the police officer. All he wanted was to reunite with his dad so the two could go back home.

"As you surely have already been told, this is just a mere procedure. You would only have to answer a few questions and then you can go back home"

Barry nodded again. He was ready. As ready as he could be.

"So, Barry, you told Detective West you were in your room at the beginning" Barry nodded again, but the young man said nothing. "Can you please tell me everything that happened?"

"I… uh…" he shook his head when all the images got into his head at the same time at alarming speed. He took some air and tried to calm down, as his mother had taught him, to put order in his thoughts. He didn't quite manage to clear his mind, but it would have to do. "I was asleep when the noises downstairs woke me up"

"What kind of noises?"

"It was like… like the kind of noise crystal makes when it shatters."

The young officer looked at the big mirror behind the kid and nodded. Unknowingly to Barry, the mirror behind him was not a normal one. It was a one-way mirror, which meant that they were not as alone as the young boy thought they were. He knew, and the other policemen at the other side of the room too, that a shattered crystal glass had been found next to Nora Allen's body with some residues of red wine, as well as the pieces of glass of a broken window and of frames of family photos.

"What did you do next?"

"I… I went downstairs. There were these noises and mom was screaming and I was scared…" the tears coming out of his eyes made him stop talking. He wiped them away and bit his lips until he felt the taste of blood in his mouth; he did that every time closing his eyes didn't work to make him stop crying. He noticed the policeman was about to talk, but he spoke first. "And when I got into the living room I saw my mom"

"Was she…?"

"She was alive" he interrupted him furiously, knowing what he was going to ask. His mother had been alive, kneeled on the floor in the middle of a red and yellow circle moving too fast around her. "She told me to leave. And my dad too"

"Your father was there?" the policeman had a serious expression on his face.

"I was already there when he arrived"

"Did he say something?"

Barry nodded.

"What did he say to you?"

"He… He told me to run"

"Did he say something else? Did he threaten you?"

"No, he didn't say anything else, I…"

Barry shook his head. In fact, he didn't know if his father ever told him anything else, because that had been when the other blur, the one who had been fighting the red blur that was the man in yellow, took him out of the house and left him blocks away; when he got back, there was movement around the house, with as many police cars as policemen, and his father was being led by two officers inside a car.

He remembered his father was already cuffed when he saw him. He didn't understood why they were taking him if he hadn't been the murderer… and then he realized what the officer had also asked him.

"My dad didn't kill my mom!"

It seemed something completely obvious. He had seen the man in yellow next to his mom when his father had been next to him feeling completely helpless and unable to save Nora. But those stupid officers had misunderstood all the evidences and had taken the easy way. The man in yellow must have already left the house when the police arrive, and therefore the only person inside who could be blamed for everything was his father. Wrong place, wrong time.

Barry could feel his eyes wet again, tears about to come out. This time, however, not because of the hole in her heart it had caused him having his life shattered to millions of sharp little pieces in just a few minutes. This time he wanted to cry, and scream, and kick the officer in front of him for believing his father had killed his mother. He could see it in his eyes, how he looked at him with his stupid gentle smile, trying to encourage him when he didn't understand a thing. And seeing the officer so calm as if he knew all the answers freaked Barry out even more because he just _thought_ he knew all the answers

"It wasn't my dad!" he repeated. "It wasn't him!"

"Then who was it?"

Barry knew the battle was lost before it had even begun. He felt the hole in his heart getting bigger and bigger as he finally understood his words weren't going to get his father out of prison anytime soon. He finally understood as soon as he heard the officer's question and what the tone beneath it was failing to hide. Still, the young boy was stubborn.

"It wasn't my dad" he repeated. "There was a man with a yellow suit. He was the one who killed my mother. I saw him!"

Before the officer interrogating Barry could reply, the boy turned around when he heard some voices arguing behind him. He saw no one; behind him was just the big mirror. However, not even a minute after that, the door of the interrogation room opened and a familiar figure was standing next to it.

"I think that's enough, Officer Johnson"

If Barry wasn't feeling so miserable, he would have smile when Joe appeared in the room as some sort of savior. Not only was Joe a policeman, he also was Iris' father and a friend of his parents. If someone could get Henry Allen out of prison, it was Joe.

"Detective West, you can't interrupt an interrogation just like that"

"He's a victim, Johnson, not a murderer. For God's sake, he is just a kid!" Joe did look threatening when he got angry, Barry thought. No doubt why he was such a good police detective. The officer suddenly lost all ability to speak and remained on his seat looking helplessly to the one-way mirror whereas Joe got near Barry and got on his knees next to him so they were at the same eye level. "Hi Bear. Do you want to come home with Iris and me?"

"I want to see my dad"

Joe looked sadly at the poor little guy. All evidence said what everyone could see with their own eyes as soon as they got to the crime scene. All evidence said that Henry Allen, the man who he thought was his friend, has killed Nora. They didn't know the reason yet (if there was one), but there were no such things as blurs who take another person's life. For the detective, it looked as something impossible the kid's mind had fabricated to escape from the hard reality.

The man put his hands on Barry's knees and looked at him with an encouraging half smile like the one he always gave him when he saw him when he dropped Iris off at the school. He had always liked the kid, and his parents had been good people too. Years ago, when Iris and Barry were younger and his wife was still alive, the two couples used to spend many afternoons together in the park while the young ones played and run around them. As a policeman, he understood there were days where he was going to be too late to make a difference. It just hurt too much that it happened with the Allens.

"I promise I'll bring you tomorrow morning, okay?" He knew the young boy wasn't anywhere near convinced (he wasn't sure he was convinced by his own words either), so he spoke again before he could be interrupted. "Iris is alone at home and she gets scared if I am too late". That, of course, was a lie. He had been with his daughter when he had received the call to go to the Allens' house, so she knew he was at work (although he didn't explain anything of what had happened to his eleven-year-old daughter).

"Okay"

"Okay?"

"Okay" repeated Barry again.

He got up at the same time as Joe. Iris was a friend; it wasn't fair to have her waiting for her father worried and alone at home. She had lost her mom not so long ago and he understood how alone she felt. He wasn't going to be the one to take her dad all for him. He already had one.

"Come on, Barry. Let's get out of here"

The kid got out of the interrogation room without looking back to the officer who had been interrogating him (and to whom he felt nothing but anger and frustration) and was led outside by Joe, who had a comforting hand on his back. He remained silent all the way to the car; he didn't say a word to anyone and he just stood next to Joe and wait while he talk to other police officers and signed some papers he didn't got the chance (or cared) to read.

Joe didn't say a word until they got near the car. However, when Barry thought he was going to open the car's door, he got down on his knees in front of him instead. Barry furrowed his brows when he saw that but he noticed all Joe was doing was buttoning his jacket; he hadn't realized until that moment that he was shivering.

"There you go" said Joe.

"Thank you, Joe".

The detective could have answered that there was nothing he had to thank him for, but instead he ran a hand through the kid's hair.

"Let's get you home"

Barry got inside the car once Joe opened the door and let the older man fasten his seatbelt as his dad did with him sometimes too. Recently, though, he had started arguing with both his dad and his mom about those kind of acts; even though he secretly like them, they showed to the outside world (and especially to the bullies) that he was still a kid when he was actually almost a teenager. That time, however, he didn't say anything to Joe.

Acts like those (such as rescuing him from Officer Johnson or buttoning his jacket when he was cold) showed him that he did care about him and it helped him not to feel so utterly alone in a world where, as he had discovered that night, everything was possible.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! I know I told you I wasn't updating this, or any, story until July... but in all fairness I had two thirds of this story written since mid-May. However I haven't had the time to check for mistakes so I apologize in advance.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Flash. All rights belong to their respective owners.**

* * *

 **II**

It still felt like a dream despite it had been a few days since Nora Allen had died. In those moments at night when the house was completely quiet, it was almost as if nothing ever happened and his daughter and he were still the only inhabitants of the house. And still, Joe could feel something had indeed happened, apart from the obvious fact that he had become the foster father of his daughter's friend.

Ever since his wife had left them, there had been a cloud of sadness, guilt and grief surrounding both his daughter (their daughter) and him. Iris was still a child and he had no doubt it had been difficult for her, but Joe envied how his daughter could move on (or at least tried) while he felt as if he was stuck there, condemned to just existing and dealing with tough finances and a young daughter who would soon reach adolescence, aka the toughest years of a child's life, without the presence of her mother. However, since Barry Allen had come to live with them, some sort of light did too. As strange as it sounded, in the almost two weeks the young boy had been living with them, part of that negativity had disappeared.

A loud noise woke him up. He didn't wake up immediately but instead he stayed lying in bed with his eyes closed in some state between asleep and awake. It may have been his imagination, he thought, the result of a dream he couldn't remember. It may also have been the wind making the tree branches move and hit the windows. Or it may have been a bird falling from a nest because of it. He sighed and moved his head to reach for the cold side of the pillow. He sighed again and closed his eyes, not even bothering to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was late but it was still dark and his cellphone was quiet, resting on the wooden surface, which meant the criminals of Central City were finally giving him a break to spend the night at home and get some proper rest.

He was falling asleep when he heard the noise again. This time, however, his eyes completely opened and move to search for the drawer where he kept his gun at night. Not too close but not too far either in order to get easy and fast access to it in case of need. That had never happened to him before but as a cop you couldn't let your guard down, even less having not only a child, but two, under your protection. He was going to take the gun quietly to face the possible intruders coming inside the house when he heard the noise again, this time louder but also clearer.

It was a child's voice, but definitely not Iris. Joe sighed worriedly. Barry's face when he saw him that fateful night was something he would never be able to forget; on his knees in front of his mother's still warm lifeless corpse, desperately calling for her. He could never forget the little child's cries when he saw his father being taken cuffed out of the house either, or the child's face when he had rescued him from the interrogation room hours later or when he had promised him he would let him see his father the next day in the morning. Of course, although he didn't want to, he kept his promise and stood silently by the door while Barry talked to Henry in Iron Heights. Even Joe still found it difficult to believe that someone as Henry Allen could have killed his wife like with one single stab to the heart, just like that. The two families had spent so many evenings together, they had seen their children grow up. Still, evidences were clear. And if evidences said Henry Allen was guilty, he would make sure he harmed nobody else ever again. And that left him with a problem just two doors from his room.

Joe got up from the bed and walked out of the room towards Barry's, silently not to wake up Iris. Eleven was a tough age; it was when the child didn't want to be a child but despite his efforts wasn't a teenager yet. And for some it was tougher than others. Iris had always been a strong woman like her mother (which he sometimes found really scary) and being a cop's daughter had made her even stronger; she soon had woken up and realized her parents couldn't protect her forever although she was just a kid. But with Barry it was different. He could easily remember him every day arriving at school in the family's car and how the kid tried to hide how much he liked the kiss in the cheek his mother gave him before saying goodbye. But now, the cocoon he had around him had disappeared and the poor child had to face his demons alone in the dark.

"No" Joe mumbled to himself. "Not alone"

Once he arrived to Barry's door, he didn't take more seconds of waiting but he opened the door instead. His expression was serious and full of concern when he saw Barry hadn't woken up despite he was still battling his demons. The poor kid had furrowed his brows and was mumbling something Joe couldn't quite understand at first. Silently, the older man turned on the light of the bedside table and sat up on the bed, next to the child.

"Hey Bear" Joe put a hand on Barry's shoulder and shook him gently. "Wake up, buddy"

Barry tried to move away from Joe, but the man's grip was firm. Joe shook the kid's shoulder again but it wasn't until the fourth time that he saw Barry's eyes meeting his. He took his hand from his shoulder and gave him a sad smile but Barry didn't seem to be paying him any attention. With his eyes still wet, he sat up on the bed and looked around the room as if he were looking for something… or someone.

"It's okay, Barry. There's no one here. You're safe"

Barry slumped against the mattress and closed his eyes to hide the tears that were about to come out of his eyes. But Joe was no fool: he was not only a cop but a very observant (and single) dad. Iris was a strong child but there had been many nights (too many) when she had been the one failing to hide her emotions from him. As Iris had had a tough time after her mom's passing, the same was happening to Barry. He knew the kid was not having a good time: the ghosts of that fateful night were after him day and night, and school wasn't being easy either. And it wasn't being easy for him either to take care of two children on his own, especially when one of them used every chance he got to escape from him or go to his former house without being noticed or when he had to leave the children alone at home because he was needed in the precinct.

"What time is it?"

Joe looked at the kid, who had already opened his eyes and was looking at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"It's time to be asleep."

"But I can't" said Barry in a low voice. "Every time I close my eyes I see her… and him."

Joe's lip tensed when he saw the kid was about to start crying again. He took Barry's face between his hands and wiped the tears with his thumbs, trying to hide the anger and the rage he felt for Henry Allen. He had been a cop for too many years, but he still couldn't understand why such a good man could do something like Henry did; it was pretty obvious the doctor wasn't who everyone thought he was but they had realized it too late. He felt angry, pissed, confused and sad; because of the action of a mad man, a lovely child would have to deal with that trauma all his life.

"Listen to me, Barry" he said in the same loud voice the young boy had used before. "Nothing is happening to you while you are under my roof. I'm a cop, remember?"

Barry seemed pensive for a minute but didn't take his eyes from Joe. The older man thought he had won that battle until the kid spoke again.

"But Joe… how can you beat lightning? There are no such things as superpowers" If there were, he thought, he would have saved his mother instead of watching helplessly the red and yellow lightning moving around his mother.

"Haven't I told you that I do have superpowers?" Joe's feigned surprised seemed to distract Barry, who was giving him a suspicious look. "I can't believe Iris didn't tell you".

"You have?"

"Of course I have". Every parent had the superpower to ground their child for ages but that, of course, wasn't something he was telling Barry under those circumstances. He also had the superpower to burn the food but he was gradually getting better at that. No, he wasn't referring to any of that.

"Are you going to tell me?"

Joe smiled when he saw no sign of the tears, shock and sadness in the kid's face. Now all he could see was curiosity.

"Not now. Now you sleep". Joe smile got bigger when he saw the defeat in Barry's eyes.

"Tomorrow?"

"We'll see".

There was no doubt the kid was stubborn but he would have to keep the mystery. It was either that or let him find out that he had no superpower at all and it was all pure fiction to distract him. Luckily, he didn't have to do that as the kid didn't insist on that. He had already gotten up from the bed and was about to turn off the light from the lamp on the bedside table before leaving the room; however, he stopped where he was when he saw Barry was looking at him with pleading eyes which meant, as the cop knew, that the conversation with the young kid wasn't over.

"It's 3 AM already, Bar. We can pick up this conversation tomorrow". He did his best to hide a yawn.

"I know. It's just… could you leave the light on? Please?"

Joe looked at the kid, reading the vulnerability, the fear, the loneliness and the grief in his eyes; emotions that no eleven-year-old should be feeling. Silently, he made his way back to Barry's bed and took a seat next to him. The kid looked at him confused.

"Joe?"

"Sleep, Bar."

"What are you doing?" Joe smiled at him sadly when he heard the boy's tone, as if he were saying he was just too old to have some vigilante watching over him until he fell asleep.

"I already told you: nothing is happening to you while you are under my roof"

The kid's shy but genuine smile was worth a thousand words. Joe stayed next to Barry until he saw, some minutes later, that the kid had finally fallen asleep and, contrary to before, no nightmares were tormenting him. The detective yawned and got up from the bed before turning off the light, careful not to make any noise that could wake up the kid.

However, he discovered that he was not as alone as he thought once he made it out of Barry's room.

"Iris!" he whispered to his daughter after he startled when he saw his daughter in front of Barry's door. He looked at the kid one last time to make sure that they hadn't woken him up and he closed the door behind him. "What are you doing here? It's 3 AM, way past your bed time"

"Barry woke me up… and then I heard your voice too" she said with guilty eyes.

"Haven't I told you not to eavesdrop?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping, dad, I was just investigating"

Joe shook his head and sighed. He knew the signs, he had shown them too: first they show an excessive curiosity for everything around them and years later they are graduating from the police academy and getting their guns and badges. But not Iris. Iris couldn't become a cop. He knew the risks the profession required to take; he couldn't afford Iris to take them too. She was all he had. Without her, he would be lost.

"Well, young lady, the investigation can wait. Sleeping can't"

He accompanied his daughter to her room, the two too tired to make any comment. Joe kissed his daughter's cheek when she was once again in bed and tucked between her sheets; he turned to leave the room when he heard Iris' voice.

"You know, dad? You do have superpowers"

Joe stopped where he was and turned to look at Iris. His face showed confusion and amusement at the same time.

"I do?"

"Yeah"

"And what kind of superpowers do I have?" he asked; he asked Iris once again before she could interrupt him. "Hold on. Are they good or bad? I hope they're good, 'cause I can't imagine Lieutenant Singh's face if he finds out they're not…"

"Don't worry, they're the best" said Iris hiding a giggle.

"Are they?"

"Yes. With you, Barry and I never feel alone."

* * *

 **Also, I don't want to say goodbye (for now) without thanking each one of you for the response this has received. I feel so honored! And a special thanks to** ** _amalia_** **,** ** _OWolfunderfullMoonO_** **,** ** _StyxxandBethany_** **and** ** _silverwolvesarecool_** **,** **who also took some time to leave a review. I hope you like the new chapter as much as the old one!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! You missed me? College is** ** _finally_** **over and summer holidays have begun and life is great! (though the weather is too hot but hey, perfection doesn't exist). It was a long wait for you so here's an extra long chapter; this was one of the most difficult ones, the muse wasn't really compliant - I'm calling her Reverse Muse now - and then I didn't know where to stop. Luckily, inspiration came in a flash and defeated Reverse Muse... for now. I have checked for mistakes but as this chapter is really long I know I missed some of them. Sorry for that!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Flash. All rights belong to their respective owners.**

* * *

 **III**

As almost every morning, Detective West's phone rang before the alarm clock did. Apparently, crime couldn't wait in Central City. Still in bed, the detective hid a yawn while he heard Lieutenant Singh's anxiety at the other end of the phone. After the other man had hung up, Joe sighed again while he put his phone on the table next to his bed and rubbed his face with his hand. It wasn't going to be the Saturday he expected. He had been planning on taking Iris and Barry to Coast City and spending some quality time with them; the weather was already somewhat warm during that time of the year, and Coast City had always been known for its amazing views and its peace. He had been there many years ago, one of the many weekends he spent with Iris' mom outside Central City before their daughter was born or they were even married, and he knew the kids would enjoy it as they had never been there. He knew it would have done some good to Barry, especially now that the first anniversary of his family's tragedy was due, but also to Iris; she had been really sad for some weeks since she lost her mom's wedding ring during that school trip to the zoo. Distractions were needed sometimes... but unfortunately for him and the kids, Coast City had to wait.

He glanced at the clock before making his way out of the room. It was 8 AM, still too soon for the children to be up after all the school tiredness of the week. Still, he decided to have a look at them to make sure they were okay before he started his morning routine (shower, shaving, breakfast, and then to the car and to where he was needed to be). Iris' room was nearer. Joe opened the door of his daughter's room carefully as he didn't want to make any noise that could wake her up. He couldn't help but smile when he saw her face. His twelve-year-old Iris, who was now entering her teen years and starting to gradually distance from him with each passing day, was still a vulnerable kid even if she didn't want anyone to think so. He had been mentally preparing for this day for many years, since Iris didn't want a piggyback anymore or since she chose to go to the cinema with her friends instead that with him. He knew that growing up without her mother was tough for her, and the fact that she also grew up with a father that was also a cop made her even tougher. But in these quiet moments of peace where the detective stood by his daughter's door and watched her sleep, he felt how time stopped and allowed him to better enjoy the moment. No matter how old Iris was; Joe knew that at two, twelve, twenty-two or forty, she would always be his little angel. He kissed his daughter's cheek before closing the door again with a big smile on his face. He was sure his daughter's childhood wasn't an easy one, but everything turned out okay.

He stopped behind Barry's door and stayed there for a few seconds before finally deciding to open the door and say goodbye to the kid. Although Barry was not his biological son, the year he had been living with them had been unforgettable. Despite the awful reason that made him live with his daughter and him, Barry had proven to be a bright kid, intelligent but also kind; his natural curiosity for everything in the world and his smile weren't something he would ever be able to forget. Although Barry was not his biological son, he had become his son.

The detective open the door silently, careful not to wake the kid up. He couldn't hide a smile when he saw the kid's form under the blankets. As he imagined, Barry was completely asleep; eight in the morning was too soon for a kid to be awake, and he didn't expect otherwise. After all, he had once been a kid too. Joe went to Barry's bed and kissed the kid's forehead before leaving the room and closing the door after him. One year after the incident, he still couldn't find a viable explanation for what happened. Why could have Henry done such a horrible thing, not just to Nora but to Barry too? Despite the former doctor had been rotting in Iron Heights since that day, there wasn't enough consolation. Not for him, not for Barry. However, the kid still believed in his father's innocence, claiming the murderer was not him but a mysterious man dressed in a yellow suit that came into his house surrounded by a red and yellow lightning. The detective sighed and rubbed his face with one of his hands while he made his way to the kitchen to leave one last note to the kids before leaving. At work, he had had to deal with countless victims and trauma often made them create some made-up facts, less harmful than reality. It wasn't something he could ever get used to seeing, and the fact that Barry was now one of those victims didn't make it any easier. However, he knew that he was just a kid and he needed his and Iris's support, and that was what they were all doing. Given time, he was sure everything would be okay with Barry as it was now with his daughter and him after his wife had left them.

He took the first piece of paper he could find and wrote some words for the kids to let them know where they could find breakfast and that he would be home by lunchtime. He grabbed the car keys and left the house, and he arrived at the scene fifteen minutes later.

"Hey Joe"

"Fred" Joe greeted his partner with a slight nod when he reached him. He was in front of a body covered with a white blanket. "What do we have?"

"Meet Lucy Andrews, kindergarten teacher from Metropolis in her mid-twenties, single blow to the head" Captain Chyre kneeled next to the body and grabbed the blanket to show his partner what he had just described.

"Man, this is awful. She looks so young... Any potential suspect?"

"Just one so far" said Chyre with a bitter smile.

By the looks on his partner's face, Joe knew who he was referring to.

"Let me guess: boyfriend" Joe sighed when his partner nodded. In cases like this, it was usually the boyfriend. "Do we have an ID?"

"Matthew Johnson, thirtysomething, an unsuccessful and frustrated artist with a fiery temper. He has been described as tall and muscular, with brown hair and blue eyes"

Joe got up and walker carefully around the corpse, which Chyre has covered again with the blanket. Before speaking, the detective looked up at the building that was behind them and around searching for everything suspicious or that should not be there.

"Metropolis is a long way from Central City. What brought her here?"

"According to her neighbors, Matthew. They met some years ago in Metropolis and two months later she had moved to his apartment here in Central City".

"Well, that was fast". From what he knew so far, Joe would say Matthew was an authoritarian and abusive guy; his frustration made his temper even worse, and with a little help from some alcohol things could have easily gotten out of his hands. Then he hit his girlfriend and she fell through the window. "Are there any witnesses left?"

"Just one. Mrs Morris, apartment 3-B. Apparently, she is in a wheelchair and couldn't get down the stairs on her own"

"Then let's see what Mrs Morris has to say and let's catch that son of a bitch". He had seen so many crimes in all the years he has been a cop, but he couldn't wait to get his hands on this one.

They made the way to the block in silence, but halfway up the stairs to Mrs Morris apartment Chyre put a hand on Joe's shoulder and made him stop.

"What?" Joe turned his head towards his partner with a confused look on his face.

"How's Barry doing?"

"He's fine, he and Iris were still asleep when I left the house" he waved his hand carelessly.

Fred usually asked him about the kid, and how he was doing, but that hadn't been the place to ask. Joe was going to tell him that when they both saw a door opening on the upper floor and an old lady in a wheelchair looking at them curiously through glasses that were almost as big as her face.

"We're almost there, Mrs Morris, give us a few more secs" said Joe with an apologetic look he didn't know if the old lady had seen.

"No need to hurry, young man. You and your partner better watch your step; those stairs are a Devil's trap"

The two cops exchange a look as they made their final way to the house. Joe had already forgotten to ask his partner about his sudden concerns for Barry in the middle of the interrogation process when they reached the old lady's living room and saw the newspaper on the table. On the front page, on the right, there was a headline that got his attention: "Remembering Central City's most shocking crime: the Allens' tragedy one year later". Below it, there was a photo Joe knew too well: a family portrait of the three members, short before that day, each one of them with big smiles on their faces.

Joe's eyes went fast to search for the date. His eyes opened widely when he realized what day it was. It had been exactly one year after Barry's mom was murdered… and Joe wasn't there with the kid but at work. He had become his guardian and he wasn't going to be there to guard him on such a difficult day.

The detective gave a startle when he felt something on his shoulder, but it was just Fred's hand.

"Come on, we have work to do"

Joe sighed and took his eyes from the newspaper, focusing only on Mrs Morris. Chyre was right, they had work to do. The best he did it, the fastest he could get home to check on Barry. At least, he thought, Iris was with him.

"Alright, ma'am. Could you tell us what you saw?"

* * *

When Barry opened his eyes, all he could hear was silence. He spend a minute in bed, too sleepy to realize what day it was, but then the memories came fast at him; it had been a quiet night with no nightmares, but he had learnt long ago that he could never get free of them, not completely. Whether at night or during the day, or both, he still saw that big and scary man dressed in yellow, moving in a red and yellow blur; sometimes, those memories were even worse that the day they happened.

He looked at the clock and realized the excursion to Coast City would have to be postponed as all that silence meant Joe wasn't in the house and he must have already left for work. The truth is, he was somewhat glad to postpone the trip; that day wasn't really the best for him to stay out of Central City and relax and have fun with the Wests while his dad was rotting each passing day in Iron Heights as he had been doing for the last year. That day was the first anniversary of the day his life has ended; at least now he had the chance to go visit his dad instead of trying to act like normal people did and pretending to be having a great time when he was not.

He got up from the bed and sat on the floor next to it after checking that the door of his room was still closed. He crossed his legs and grabbed a little box he always left under the bed. He opened it carefully and was greeted with the same old photographs and newspaper cuttings he had been secretly gathering since the previous year; there were almost fifteen but for Barry fifteen was not enough, nor was any other number he could think of. For Barry, enough would be when his cuttings could lead to new clues to absolve his father.

The headlines of each one of the cuttings he had gathered hurt the same as the day they were cut out. All of them were completely convinced that the murderer had been Henry Allen instead of the man in yellow, and only one of the papers mentioned that the eleven-year-old son believed to have seen a mysterious man dressed in a yellow suit in the middle of a yellow and red lightning inside the house. Unfortunately, the author of that piece of news thought the same as everyone (even the same as Joe, which was too painful for Barry to admit because he trusted his foster dad so much): that Barry's traumatized mind had created that human-like figure as a mental barrier to protect the kid from the inevitable truth he witnessed that night.

However, that day Barry wasn't spending his time in front of all those papers to find some hidden clues the police may have missed. That day, all Barry wanted to do was to look at the photos of those news, where his mom appeared happy, smiling and _alive_. It had been three hundred and sixty-five days, exactly one year, and his memories of her mom were already fading. If it were not for those photos, he wouldn't be able to close his eyes and see each one of her facial features as accurately as if she were in front of him again. He remembered the little mole under her right eye, almost an exact copy of the one he had on his face too. He remembered her red hair as if she had just been kissed by fire. He also remembered her big green eyes, similar to his. He even remembered how everything had a special light when he saw her smiling. But those papers could never help him remember her voice and the noise she made when she laugh; even if he tried to recreate those moments inside his head, her life could never be recreated.

He was holding a paper with one photograph of her mom when he heard a knock on his door.

"Barry, are you there?"

He was tempted to pretend to be asleep and let Iris walk away, but it was Iris. He could never lie to her, as much as he wanted to enjoy some more moments alone with what was left of his mom.

"Give me a minute, okay?"

"Okay..." Barry almost smiled when he heard Iris's sigh of resignation. "I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast, I'm sure Dad has left us a note there somewhere"

He turned to look at the door with his mom's photo still in his hands, but he focused on it again when he heard Iris's going downstairs. However, now that he knew Iris was waiting for him on the bottom floor, he couldn't focus completely on his mom. Looking one last time at her photo, he left it in the box and returned it to its place under his bed after putting inside it the rest of photos and cuttings. As he made his way to the kitchen, he promised himself the same thing he had been promising for three hundred and sixty-five days: he would make everything he could to find the man in yellow and get his dad out of prison.

But when he saw Iris, so busy filling the dishes with food for the two of them that she hadn't noticed his presence yet, his serious expression faded and he unconsciously smiled. Iris had a special light inside of her too, one that made everything look much more beautiful when she was around.

At that exact moment, Iris was pouring syrup in the pancakes that were already in the dishes, but she realized some of it had fallen to the floor a moment too late.

"Shit!" when she raised her head she noticed Barry looking at him with a funny expression. "Don't look at me like that, you silly. Come here; get these to the table while I clean this"

Barry did as he was told and put the dishes on the big table while she cleaned the counter and then she joined his friend on the table.

"You know you just said the 's-word', right?" said Barry with an amused expression and an arched brow.

"I know you're not gonna tell my dad, Bar" Iris rolled her eyes.

"Am I not? And why is that?"

"Because if you do, I'll tell him about your little experiment in the garage"

When Barry saw Iris's face, he knew he had just lost another battle. He had to admit her friend was a great opponent.

"You win this time, Miss West."

"As I did the others" she smiled proudly. "Admit it, you have a soft spot for me"

Barry felt his face becoming as red as a tomato and he lowered it to analyze every little detail of his remaining pancake, which he suddenly found really interesting. Iris didn't notice his friend's embarrassment and took the remote to turn on the TV as she did every morning during breakfast.

While she was zapping from channel to channel trying to find the most appealing one for them (preferably with a movie or a series that wasn't too childish, as they were practically teenagers now), they recognize a familiar name on the screen. Iris gave a startle when she saw the name of Barry's dad and looked at her friend for a second before moving her hand rapidly to the TV to change the channel again, but his hand stopped her.

"Don't" he said without taking his eyes from the TV. "Turn up the volume"

Iris did as she was told, feeling how her arm trembled in the process. The atmosphere had suddenly change, and it felt almost as if the days immediately after her mom's passing were back. If it were for her, she would turn off the TV and distract Barry playing cards or even joining him in one of those boring scientific experiment he liked to do sometimes; that would definitely lighten up his mood. However, it didn't seem Barry's mind was anywhere but inside the TV, listening to all those vipers who were talking about Barry's family as if they had always known them just because it was the anniversary of his mom's death. It made her sick.

Some minutes later, Iris was no longer looking at the screen but at Barry, who hadn't moved from his previous position and remained completely still as if he were a statue. She knew she had to make him move from the TV somehow but she couldn't find anything good enough. She was still thinking about that when she saw Barry getting up from the chair, taking his coat and heading to the front door.

"Bar?"

"I have to do something before Joe gets home" he said without even looking at her as he opened the door and was heading outside. "Please, don't tell him anything about this if he calls"

"Where are you…" she started before the door closed and she was left completely alone in the house. "…going".

Iris sighed and rubbed a hand through her face. Of course she didn't need an answer to know where Barry must be going but she wasn't expecting that again. It was good her dad wasn't in the house because he would kill Barry and her: the boy for escaping (again) and her for allowing him to do that. She looked at the TV for half a minute as the host of the program was discussing a piece of news from the front page of the newspaper entitled: "Remembering Central City's most shocking crime: the Allens' tragedy one year later" before she turned off the TV and took the empty dishes to the kitchen. When they were already in the dishwasher, Iris rested her hands on the counter and shook her head.

It was so frustrating to hear people talking about his friend as if he was just a piece of meat! But what it was even more frustrating was that she didn't know how to help. She knew how to be by Barry's side and support him, as his dad did, but sometimes, like that day, it wasn't enough and she felt completely useless.

"Please, Barry, be fine"

* * *

By the time Joe arrived home, he wished he hadn't planned on cooking his mom's stew instead of something easier and faster as a hamburger from Big Belly Burger. He was starving but at least he had had the chance to arrest Matthew Johnson himself thanks to a previous tackle from his partner. He had let Fred and Singh prosecuting the guy while he headed home to check on Iris and Barry; he had been feeling uneasy since he saw the piece of news about Barry's family on the newspaper, and he felt even worse for not realizing what day it was until he was at work. It was a normal day of March for anyone but Barry Allen. For him, it was the day the old Barry has died; Joe, as his protector and someone who cared about him, must have remembered that.

The first thing he noticed when he got inside the house was the silence. It was really quiet. That was the first sign that something wasn't right. Children alone at home meant some mischief, but everything was clean and in order and no smoke was coming from any device. It was just too quiet.

"Hi Daddy" Iris greeted him from the dining table, where she was drawing in her fancy new sketchbook.

"Hi baby" he replied taking off his coat and leaving it on the back of the sofa before going to meet his daughter. He furrowed his brow when he saw she was alone, no sign of Barry anywhere near her. "Where's Barry?"

"He's taking a shower; he'll be back here shortly"

Joe remained silent arching a brow with skepticism. It was 2 PM, not the usual time to take a shower, and besides he heard no noise from pouring water coming from upstairs so he knew Barry was nowhere near water. Also, that shower-excuse was getting old and he was a cop. It was obvious he was being lied to.

"Are you going to tell me the truth, young lady, or you're gonna be grounded for a week?"

He knew his threatening tone had worked when Iris raised her head from her masterpiece and left the crayons on the table, suddenly forgetting about them.

"I'm sorry, daddy" she apologized with eyes filled with guilt. "But please, don't be mad. I know where he went"

He looked at his daughter's face, filled with guilt for making him angry and for betraying his friend's trust at the same time. It wasn't the first time Barry did that; his little excursions had been happening since the first week he had been living with them. During the last few months, they had been less frequent and Joe had hoped to have already seen the end of them. Good thing dreaming was free or he would be completely ruined.

"Yeah, me too"

The detective took his coat and left the house after ordering Iris to stay there. He got inside his car and patrolled the area, this time not looking for a dangerous criminal but for an innocent kid. Fortunately for him, his car was faster than Barry's legs and it didn't take him too long to finally find him.

* * *

It has some sort of magic, evil and dark, which had kept him looking at the TV and hearing those mean people say bad stuff about his dad. They had been wrong. Everyone was wrong. It hadn't been his dad; he had been there with him, equally confused and unable to save his mom. It had been the man in yellow the one that had put the knife through her mom's heart, not his dad. Why would he have done that? He was tired of repeating everyone his father was innocent, and he was starting to lose hope that anyone would ever listen to him. Who would hear him if even Joe thought the man responsible for the murder was already in prison?

During his short walk around the city center to clear his mind, he had managed to get his hands on a newspaper someone had left on a bench and to add another cutting to his collection. He had ignored everyone's confused looks while he cut the front page on the streets; his eyes couldn't get away from his mom's photo next to the big headline in bold: "Remembering Central City's most shocking crime: the Allens' tragedy one year later". That piece of news was the one they had been talking about in that program when Iris had turned on the TV, the one that had made him so mad. He had left the newspaper where he had found it while he carefully put the cutting in the inside pocket from his coat.

He kept wondering about the right people had to make judgment on other people, especially on his family, when he saw a familiar figure inside a car. He stopped where he was for half a second and then he started running. Why was everyone so focused on him? Didn't they have any other thing to care about? He just wanted to be left alone, to get away from his problems, to travel back time to sometime when his mom was still alive and his dad was still a doctor and the three of them lived happily together, no man in yellow or wrongful convictions to worry about.

But for Joe it was apparently too hard to understand, as Barry discovered when he was about to cross the street and saw in front of him the detective's car instead.

"Get in the car, Barry" when Barry stood there looking at him defiantly as if he was just about to run on the opposite direction, Joe added "Come on son, get in the car. Don't make me turn the siren on"

"I'm not your son and you are not my father!" he shouted, directing everyone's attentions towards them. But still he opened the door and got inside the car.

* * *

It had been two hours since he had returned home with Barry and the kid had run upstairs to lock himself inside his room, not before shouting at Joe (again) that he was not his father because he already had one that was in Iron Heights when he had been completely innocent. He hadn't been in the mood and had reminded him that his dad hadn't been as innocent as Barry believed, but that had only gotten him more shouts and an angrier Barry. And for what? Now Barry was angry at him and hadn't come out of his room yet, and Iris hadn't talked to him either since that moment though at least she had had lunch with at the table and emptied her dishes without complaints.

Joe was getting tired of so much silent. He had been on the table trying to get up to date with some papers from work and hadn't passed the first paragraph; he constantly felt Iris's eyes on his neck and whenever he turned his face she seemed really concentrated on the book she was pretending to be reading. But Joe knew best: she was observing him. He knew she had been disappointed of his argument with Barry but what she didn't know was that he felt just as bad. Kids didn't understand how difficult was to be a parent and trying to be both that and a friend they could trust and go to whenever they needed. All he hoped was that one day Iris would become a father and know firsthand how much he had done on his own for Barry and her.

At 5 PM, two hours and a half after the argument, Joe got up from his chair noticing how Iris was barely looking at him. However, she did look at him when he sat on the sofa next to her.

"I know you're angry at me, baby, but I can't take this anymore"

"You shouldn't have told him that" she sounded cooler than usual, and each word felt like a sharp blade.

"But you know it was true. There was no man in yellow in his house that night"

"I know" she said with serious eyes. "But Barry does too. And you were rude".

Joe sighed. All Iris had said was true, but the seriousness with which she has said it was scary. Sometimes he wondered if his baby girl was twelve or twenty but he suspected her mom's death forced her to leave part of her childhood behind and grow up faster. Iris was right: his words had been right but he had been rude, he should have understood that that moment was sensitive for Barry and now he had to apologize.

He got up from the couch and headed towards the stairs.

"I'm gonna talk to him" he said. Iris nodded but she didn't reply.

* * *

Since Barry had been forced to go back home and exchanged those words with Joe, he had locked himself in his room and hadn't talked to anyone again, not even to Iris, who had been there twice asking him if he wanted some food and to open the door and had been given the same answer the two times. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. Why would he talk to them if they weren't willing to listen?

So he had sat on the floor next to his bed and had taken the little box to add the new cutting to the collection. Then he had taken a pencil and a notebook and had spent the next two hours underlining the important words and trying to tie up loose ends left by the police as he had been doing since that night. He was going through the fourth article when he heard someone knocking at his door. Again.

"Go away, Iris. Please" he hadn't even moved from his position.

"It's not Iris" replied Joe gently. "May I come in?"

Barry looked at the papers spread through the floor and froze. Definitely not the best timing. He started to carefully put the papers on the box, including the pencil and the notebook (fortunately for him, it wasn't too big and it fit inside the box perfectly), and talked to Joe to get some time.

"I don't feel like talking right now" the kid said, all of which was completely true.

"I know I shouldn't have told you that" the detective answered while, unknowingly to him, Barry put the box under his bed again at the other side of the room.

"No, you shouldn't" he repeated distractedly while he lied on bed and grabbed the nearest magazine he had on reach.

"Please, Bar. Let me in"

Barry didn't reply but he got up from the bed silently, leaving the magazine on top of it and open the door of his room to meet Joe's concerned eyes. Barry saw Joe was about to say something, so he turned and headed to his bed before the older man the chance to do it and grabbed the magazine he had left there. It was an old one from months ago, with Harrison Wells on the cover. One of the main articles of that number was an interview with the scientist where he had been asked lots of different questions about the particle accelerator he was planning on building there in Central City. His answers were full of ambition and determination and had been enough to make the kid fell in love with the man's ideals. He had read that magazine hundreds of times and he still found it interesting, so he didn't have to feign that when Joe sat on the edge of his bed after him. Barry noticed how Joe lowered his head to casually look at the cover of the magazine.

"That scientist looks familiar"

"His name is Harrison Wells" Barry rolled his eyes and looked at Joe, showing him the magazine and pointing with one finger to the big letters in bold that proved that was the man's name.

"He looks as if he knew all the secrets of the universe" pointed Joe.

"He does" replied Barry. "He is going to change the course of history". He was interested in science and although he didn't understand some specific scientific terms, he understood enough to know what Wells was planning on doing with his particle accelerator. Since that day, the scientist had become his personal hero but the sad thing though was that he would never know Barry had such admiration for him. Barry looked at Joe again and sighed, leaving the magazine on his bedside table. "But you're not here for that"

"No" It was Joe's time to sigh. "I came here to apologize" Barry remained silent, waiting for Joe to keep talking. Was he finally going to admit that his father had not killed his mother? "I shouldn't have said what I did. I was rude and I should have been more empathetic with you".

"So… you still think my dad killed my mother" said Barry, sounding really disappointed. It was not a question.

"Barry, it's not…" Barry could feel Joe's frustration, but the older man stopped before completing the sentence. "I'm not here to argue". He raised his hands as a sign of peace.

"Then don't. Let me see him. Release him"

Joe got up from Barry's bed and raised his hands to his head. It sounded like a piece of cake in Barry's mouth, but it was more complicated than that. Barry believed in his dad's innocence whereas the rest of the world already knew Henry Allen's true murderous nature. If it were for him, he wouldn't have even let Barry be in the same room with his dad since that night, no matter there were five or fifty policemen with them. Only God knew why Henry Allen had only killed his wife and not both her and their child, but that was something they all had to be grateful for.

However, before Joe answered, he heard a noise coming from Barry stomach.

"Looks like you're hungry"

"I'm not" Barry said, though his face got red when his stomach growled again.

"I think your stomach thinks otherwise" the detective replied with an amused look and a half smile. "You must be starving, you didn't have anything for lunch today"

"I wasn't really hungry"

"Well, now you are. Come on, let's get you some snack"

Barry didn't like the fact that his stomach had interrupted his conversation with Joe; it was one he really needed and he never got the chance to end, and it had happened the same today. However, he was indeed hungry and, although he wasn't going to admit it publicly, he had missed Joe mom's stew. He just hoped the Wests had left him a dish for dinner.

When they got to the bottom floor, Joe disappeared in the kitchen to prepare Barry something to eat while the kid stood next to the stairs, not really knowing where to go. But he didn't have to make that choice as Iris soon approached to him and gave him her best hug without saying a word. Barry hugged her back and it wasn't until they had separated that he spoke to her.

"What was the hug for?"

"Does it have to be for something?"

Barry smiled at her and had to resist the urge to hug her friend again.

"I'm sorry I ignored you"

"Yeah, you better be" warned her, although Barry felt relieved she didn't look too serious. "You shouldn't have. You should have let me in. That's what friends do"

"Come on, Iris, let him breathe" said Joe from the kitchen. Barry noticed Joe's amused expression and he realized the detective had been watching the scene from the beginning, but he also noticed the big ham sandwich he was making for him. Joe also noticed Barry's gaze. "Get to the table, Bear. Iris, help me with this"

The kid sat on the chair in front of the dining table while Iris took the dish with the sandwich and put it in front of him. Joe appeared a minute later with a bottle of orange juice and three glasses and poured the liquid in the three of them. Barry was about to grab his sandwich and devour it like the hungry beast he felt he was when he saw Joe raising the arm with which he was holding the glass of juice.

"I want to propose a toast" Barry felt forced to make his food wait one more minute and grabbed his glass of juice; Iris imitated him, but the kid noticed she hadn't grabbed her glass until Barry did. "To Barry" the kid was surprised to hear his name and looked at Joe with confusion. "I know that this year must have been difficult for you and that living with us doesn't change the family you belong to. But you are an amazing kid, Bear, and Iris and I are so lucky to have you"

Although he was scared of the man in yellow, really missed his mom, and felt frustrated and angry with Joe for not believing in him when he said his dad was not a murderer and not letting him out of prison, his smile after the toast was completely genuine. He had lost his family and his home that night, but the Wests had given him both of them. No matter how many arguments he had with Joe, nothing could ever change that.

"Thank you, Joe"

The kid swallowed the contents of his glass. It was the most delicious liquid he had ever had.

* * *

 **Also, I can't find the words to thank you for reading and following/favoriting this story. An a special thank you to my reviewers:** ** _silverwolvesarecool_** **,** ** _OWolfunderfullMoonO_** **,** ** _walter_** **,** ** _StyxxandBethany_** **and** ** _romirola_** **. I hope you like this chapter as much as the previous ones!**

 **I'm going to the beach next week and won't be back until the first week of August; I have no wifi there so I won't be able to post any new chapter until I'm back. However, I'll have time to write there and doing it in front of the sea under the light of the moon is really inspiring, so I would expect fast updates once I'm back.**

 **And last but not least: if there is anyone out there attending SDCC, know that I envy you so much!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm SO sorry for this super late update! So... from now on, when I say "expect fast updates", just ignore me. As always, expect to find mistakes as I'm not a native speaker and I don't have a beta yet. Thanks to everyone reading this chapter, and also a special thanks to everyone reviewing, following and favoriting; I really appreciate it.**

 **Disclaimer: see previous chapters**

* * *

 **IV**

Freedom was just fifteen minutes away from him. So close, yet so far. He sighed with frustration, not paying any attention to what the teacher was explaining. His mind was too busy for school, he was tired (he had gone to bed late at night because he had been, once again, searching for clues that would prove his dad's innocence in his old cuttings from newspapers) and Spanish had never really been his cup of tea. That always made him feel guilty; his mom spent a semester abroad in Spain and he still remembered how she sounded when she spoke that language. Perhaps that was the reason he didn't like languages, because they reminded him of his mom too much. He preferred sciences, tangible and logical explanations of everything that happened on the everyday's life. Like having you dad arrested for a murder he didn't commit and use sciences to find clues to prove everyone wrong. On the other hand, Iris loved languages.

Unconsciously, his eyes moved from the surface of his table to search for Iris, on the table right next to him. God, she looked beautiful. Always. Even when she was sick and pale and running a fever and all sweaty. She looked so focused on the teacher that didn't seem to notice Barry looking at her. Of course, he was wrong. All of a sudden, Iris was looking at him. But she did not look happy, or confused. She looked… weird. She was making some sort of sign with her eyes, opening them too much, and Barry felt confused. When he stopped looking at Iris, he realized Ms Garcia was looking at him, as well as all of his classmates.

"Ah, Mr Allen, I'm so glad you finally joined us!" Barry felt his face get redder and redder.

"I'm sorry, Ms Garcia"

"As I was saying before you decided to take a nap, I was asking for volunteers to read text three-b. And since you were so interested in what I was saying, I suggest that you start reading the first paragraph"

Barry knew what was coming as soon as he had heard the word "volunteers". It never meant anything good. Barry did his best, and he thought he had done it better than the other students who also had to read one… until it was Iris' turn. Then, he felt bad for his horrible pronunciation (why was Spanish so difficult but sounded so easy from Iris' mouth?) but, he thought, at least he could ask her for help to improve his phonetics.

After reading that text, Barry saw Ms Garcia focussing his attention on him again. Oh no, he thought. There she was again. As the teacher was opening her mouth, the bell rang. Barry couldn't help but smile. Saved by the bell.

* * *

When he got out of the Spanish class as fast as he could (which wasn't too much because he wasn't a particularly fast runner), he was surprised when someone called his name from the door of the sciences' lab.

"Hey, Barry!"

He stopped and turned around to look for whoever had called his name. He was expecting Iris, so he felt a little disappointed when he saw Becky's face instead.

"Hi Becky. What's up?" He grabbed his bag with one hand and walked calmly and met her in the middle of the corridor.

"Not much" she shrugged her shoulders. "How was you Spanish class?"

Now it was Barry's turn to shrug his shoulders. " _No mucho malo_ " He looked confused when Becky laughed. "What?"

"I think you wanted to say ' _No muy mal_ ', Bar"

"Yep, that's what I said" he said stubbornly, almost believing in his words. But his red face couldn't trick anyone.

Becky shook her head, but never lost her smile. She didn't really want to show him why what he had said was wrong, she found him really cute when he was confused.

"Anyway… have you asked anyone yet?"

He arched one of his brows suspiciously when he heard her tone. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he knew it was trap.

"Yeeeaaah…" he lied, not sure what he had had to ask. "Why?"

In one second, Becky stopped looking happy to disappointed, confused and sad.

"Oh, don't worry, then. I thought we could go to prom night together but…"

"Prom night?! WHAT?!" When he saw Becky's face, he controlled himself. "I mean, yeah, sure, of course, prom night! What else could it be?" He laughed nervously and rubbed a hand through the back of his head.

He had completely forgotten about prom night, and now he wanted to punch himself in the face for that. When the teachers first started telling them about it, Barry had imagined himself asking Iris that night in the house, then she would say "I do" and then they would be crowned Prom King and Queen weeks later; he would be wearing a suit and a bow-tie, and she would be wearing a white dress, and everyone would be cheering and shouting their names with joy. But that night, Barry had had an argument with Joe after the older man found out there was a part missing from his newspaper that looked exactly like the one that talked about women killed by their husbands and, of course, Barry's parents. There had been no conversation with anyone after that; he didn't even have dinner before locking himself in his room until the following day. By that moment, he had already forgotten about his plan to ask Iris out.

"Who are you going with?"

"What? I'm… uh… I'm going with… uh…"

"You know what?" she interrupted him. "Never mind. I don't want to know it." she turned and started to leave, but she stopped before disappearing from his sight. "But it better not be Iris!"

Barry was glad she had already turned the corner and couldn't see his face.

* * *

"Are you serious about that reptile camp thing?" Iris asked him on their way home.

"Why? Of course I'm serious!" Barry replied.

"But.. you know, a reptile camp is a camp with reptiles, Bear"

Barry laughed at her face; he knew she didn't like reptiles but she was too cute when she had that face.

"Wow, I'm impressed!" he joked, hitting her in the arm.

However, while he was smiling and all happy and relaxed on the outside, he was feeling really nervous. He wanted to ask Iris to go to prom night with him; there were still some weeks left, but the prettiest and most intelligent girls were taken first and he had completely forgotten until Becky reminded him of it. But how would she react? It was like asking her out on an actual date. And how would Joe react? He was sure the older man would be surprised at least, the two of them had grown up together and lived in the same house for some years, they were practically like brother and sister. He sighed, and then found Iris brown eyes looking at him with concern.

"What's wrong, Bear?" she asked. "If it's for that reptile camp, you know it is not…"

"No, Iris, it's not for that" he sighed. "You know? Just… forget about it"

"Forget about it?"

"Yeah, just…" he started until Iris interrupted him.

"You and I both know I'm not gonna do that. And unless you want my Dad to know it too, I'd rather talk if I were you"

"Okay" he sighed. The good thing was he didn't need too much time to invent an excuse. "I'm just… worried about Spanish"

"What? Just that?"

"What do you mean 'just that'?" he forced himself to look upset and ashamed instead of surprised and guilty. "You know languages are not my thing, it's not a 'just that' for me"

"Yeah, you're right, sorry Bear" she smiled apologetically and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I can help you, if you want"

"What?" he asked her surprised.

"I mean… I'm not a native speaker like Ms Garcia, but I guess I'm good at it and I can help you if you some help. That way you don't have to look for a Spanish teacher because you already have yours at home" she smiled.

He smiled too. He had realized she had given him the perfect occasion to ask her the question.

* * *

When the two young teenagers arrived at the Wests' house, they found it empty. The talked and watched TV to disconnect their minds from school before Iris and Barry studied Spanish together; as there was no one at home, they sat at the big table in the living room where they had plenty of space for their books, laptops, dictionaries and cellphones.

"Come on, Bear. Just listen and repeat. It's not that difficult!"

Barry sighed with frustration. Iris always found easy what he found not-so-easy, and two hours after their private lesson started, he had already made her loose some of her patience.

"Okay, let's try again". she continued. " _El perro de San Roque no tiene rabo porque Ramón Ramírez se lo ha robado_. Now your turn" she added before Barry could talk "Just remember the strong r's are like the Scottish ones"

" _El perro de San Roq…_ "

"Rrrrrrrr" she corrected him.

"Okay, here's what I don't get" he stopped her, raising his hands in the air. "Why has 'Roque' a strong r? Shouldn't it be ' _Rroque_ ' instead?" Iris rubbed her face with her two hands and shook her head. "Okay, so that's a no. But why? I really don't get it, Spanish doesn't make any sense…"

"' _Rroque_ ' doesn't exist. There is no double-r in the beginning of the words, I've already told you"

"Yeah, but you can do it almost perfectly. It sounds so good from you mouth!"

"Don't be so hard on yourself! You know languages are my thing, it's no big deal for me"

"Languages, and computers, and… well, everything" he replied, feeling just a little jealous of her. "You're just perfect"

"You clearly don't remember that time I failed Biology" she laughed.

"Yeah, but then you passed the next exam and were the sixth best mark in the class"

"Yeah, and you the first" she looked at him with an arched brow.

"But that doesn't matter, Iris, you know I'm really good at sciences" he waved one of his hands tiredly.

"And what have I been telling you about me and languages, Bear?" she groaned exasperated.

The both of them remained silent for a full minute. Whereas Iris felt sorry for his friend but also frustrated, Barry was gathering strength to ask the question he had been wanting to ask her for hours.

"I'm serious, Iris" he started. "It's just looks like you are good at everything and life is always smiling at you. I'm sure you even have someone to go with to prom night!"

He looked at her from the corner of the eye, trying to decipher what her reaction meant. Iris looked at him surprised and confused, but Barry could see how her cheeks got red when he asked her the question; he didn't know, however, if they got red because she had someone to go with or not.

"Well?" he asked

"Barry Allen, since when are you such a gossip?"

"I'm not a gossip, I'm just concerned"

"You're starting to act like my dad" she shook her head, both amused and irritated. When she looked at him and saw his face, she sighed and replied. "I do, okay? But don't tell my dad, I'm sure he wouldn't like him and I don't want him to scare him"

"Please, don't tell me you're going with Tony" he said with a blank expression. He didn't really know how he was supposed to feel, apart from upset and defeated; the fact that Tony could be Iris' date made it even worse.

"Oh God, no!" Barry smiled at her disgusted face. "It's not Tony, it's Andy. Andy Tompkins"

"Oh, I know him! We sit together in Algebra" Andy Tompkins was the typical guy who looked like an athlete but proved to be more of a bookworm instead, so he got on with both meatheads and brainiacs; however, he was sometimes a bit arrogant and had a disturbing laugh. "He's a great guy, I'm happy for you"

"Thanks Bear. What about you?"

"I'm going with Becky" he said the first name that he could think of.

"Cooper?" he nodded. She shook her head. "Unbelievable. She is just so…"

But Barry never got to hear what Becky was; as Iris was speaking, they heard the noise of a key through the lock hole and seconds later, Joe came into the living room, hanging his coat on the stand behind the front door. Iris shut her mouth, gave Barry a "you tell him, I kill you" look and smiled at her dad.

"Hi daddy! How was your day?"

"Could have been worse. What about you?"

"Could have been worse" she smiled "I'm helping Barry with the Spanish homework"

"'Helping'? I think you mean stressing" he said with a smile. Then he looked at Joe. "Seriously, Joe, she is such a bad teacher, she has no patience!"

"You're welcome?" she replied ironically. "Maybe you are a bad student"

Joe smiled and left his kids alone in the living room. It was pretty obvious for him that he wasn't needed there.

* * *

Joe opened his eyes sleepily and got startled when he saw the infomercials on television; that always meant it was too late and he should have gone to bed hours ago. He turned off the TV and gave a quick look to the kitchen and the main floor, checking everything was okay, before he made his way upstairs. He was expecting to find the second floor completely dark, as Iris and Barry had gone to bed hours earlier; however, he was surprised when he saw light coming from the space between Barry's door and the floor.

Slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, he made his way to Iris' door and checked she was asleep. She looked like the little angel she was when she was younger, and she looked so full of peace that Joe closed the door without giving her a kiss; besides, she was too old to ask him for it. Then, he stopped in front of Barry's door and knocked.

"Barry?" he whispered. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine"

However, there was something about his tone that didn't seem "fine" and Joe decided to come into Barry's room. He found him already in bed, with his arms crossed under the pillow and staring at the ceiling with a lost look.

"Shouldn't you be asleep? You wake up in three hours"

"I couldn't sleep." the young man sighed. He looked at Joe. "What are you doing awake? You couldn't sleep either?"

"Nah, I fall asleep on the couch and I just woke up" Joe closed Barry's door and sat at the foot of his bed. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me"

"Yeah, sure"

Barry looked at his foster dad out of the corner of his eye, and then changed his position until his back was on the head of the bed.

"Okay, so… there's this girl I wanted to ask to go to prom nigh with me" He definitely was not going to mention that girl was Iris in front of Joe. "But when I asked her, she had already been asked before. And I told her I'm going with this other girl, the one who just asked me today too before I told her I was going with the other girl, the one who rejected me when I asked her"

"What are their names?" Joe asked

"It doesn't matter. The thing is I've wanted to ask that girl since I knew there was going to be a prom night, and then I forgot, and then this other girl reminded me of it but I told her I was going with that other _other_ girl"

"This looks more and more like a soap opera" Joe shook his head.

"What do I do now?"

"First thing tomorrow, ask this other girl if she wants to go with you; tell her that you're not going with the other girl, the first one, because you got angry at each other because of… I don't know, something." He shrugged his shoulders. He was a little rusty about relationships; he hadn't dated anyone for ages.

"And what about the first girl?"

"If she is not interested in you, she doesn't know what she is missing. But that's not your problem, son. Just… enjoy the night and be happy. You deserve it" he smiled. After everything the kid had been through through those years, he deserved at least one night with nothing to worry about.

"Thank you Joe"

Joe smiled and rubbed his hand through Barry's head. He said nothing and left the room, closing the door after him, but his smiled got bigger when his foster son turned off the light. He stood by his door until he heard he had fallen asleep and then he carefully made his way into his room.

* * *

The following day, Joe was at home when the kids arrived from school. He smiled when he saw Barry talking happily to Iris; he was talking to his mother on the telephone and waved his hand silently at them. The two kids replied, but Barry noticed the look Joe gave him when Iris wasn't looking. The young man raised his hand and showed a thumb; Joe smiled and showed him a thumb too.

* * *

 **Also, the season premiere was awesome! Poor Barry, I wanted to hug him so bad!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys! I must be sick, I'm updating a week after posting a new chapter! But I would be lying if I told you to get used to it... As usual, sorry for any mistakes and I hope you like it as much as the previous chapters. Thank you all for reading and a special thanks to everyone following, favoriting and reviewing!**

 **Disclaimer: see previous chapters**

* * *

 **V**

Despite living with two young adults full of hormones, the house felt too quiet; Joe had gotten so used to having the both of them at home, filling the house with their laughs and their troubles, that he missed them really bad when they were not around. The worst thing was, Joe thought, that they were about to leave for college and he would be left alone. On the one hand, that made him sad. On the other hand, they were their kids and he couldn't be more proud to see them growing up and gradually becoming adults.

That morning, Iris was meeting some friends at the mall, and Barry had gone to Iron Heights to see Henry. Joe was spending his free day at home, enjoying a warm cup of coffee on his own, when something caught his attention. In the garbage can, there was a ripped piece of paper; in one of said pieces, despite the poor treatment, there was still visible the coat of arms of Gotham University and the name of the addressee.

"Oh, Bear" he sighed.

* * *

"Hey, slugger"

Barry smiled when he saw his father through the window and sat in front of him; Henry sat down too when his son did.

"Hi dad. How are you doing?" he asked concerned. His father looked thinner and paler than he did in his last visit three weeks ago.

"I'm fine" he waved a hand carelessly, but his son didn't buy it.

"You don't look fine"

"Relax, Barry. I'm okay" he smiled at his soon in an attempt to calm his nerves. He appreciated his concern despite all the years he wasn't allowed to act as a real father to him, but he knew his kid has other things to worry about. "I got the flu a few days ago, but I'm on the mend now. I'm okay"

"They should have called me" Barry continued stubbornly. He was the only family Henry had left, and vice versa.

"Barry, this isn't a day-care center"

Barry sighed and looked down; his lap had suddenly much more importance now. Of course he knew that wasn't a day-care center. It was a prison, and not a common one. Iron Heights was widely known as a high-security prison for dangerous criminals, something that his father wasn't and still he had been trapped there for too many years.

The younger man had been feeling frustrated since the night his mom died in the hands of that man in yellow, a man whose identity was unknown to him, but he knew enough to be sure that it wasn't his father. And despite everything he had said, no one, not even Joe, who had become like a father to him, had ever believed him. Evidences, they said. And despite spending the past few years looking for something that could prove those evidences were wrong, he was right where he had started as he had found nothing of interest for his dad's case.

Henry felt guilty when he saw the change in his son's features after his comments and decided it was better to change the subject.

"So… any news yet?"

Barry raised his head and looked confused at his dad, but he immediately knew that he was referring to as soon as he saw his face.

"Yeah" he rubbed the back of his head with a hand. "I got accepted in Gotham's University"

"I knew you would" Henry smiled, feeling very proud of his son, but his smile froze when the man saw the young man's face. "You don't seem to be happy about it"

Barry rolled his eyes. When he had recognized his name in one of the letters that arrived morning and had seen who was sending it, he had hidden it before Iris or Joe could see it and then he had thrown it to the garbage can with the rests of food and broken stuff that lacked of importance. As everything else in that bag, that letter had lacked of importance to him. He had only applied to that university because Joe had told him to apply for universities outside Central City in case of being rejected in his own city. He had contacted months ago with different universities from all over the country, but he never intended to accept any apart from the one he had wanted to go to the whole time.

Of course, neither his dad nor Joe knew the reasons behind his stubbornness. They both had told him about his mom; she had attended Central City University, but she had always said that the first semester ever had been the one she had spent on Spain. Barry had always replied the same: that was a program of that university, it was different than studying there. But the real reason behind Barry's decision was, as always, his family. That man in yellow had taken it away from him years ago; he had managed to overcome his fear of dark through the years, but he wasn't going to stop until his dad was a free man. Going somewhere outside Central City scared him; what if he got so stressed with homework and exams that he forgot about Henry? He would never forget himself for that. And staying in Central City would keep him close to his family and, living outside the Wests' house, without Joe keeping an eye on him, might give him more time to concentrate on his old newspaper cuttings.

"Because I'm going to reject it. I don't want to go to Gotham; it's too far from here"

"What does Joe say about it?" The moment Henry saw his son's face, he immediately knew the old cop didn't know anything about it. "Barry, I know why you're doing this" the older man said with a serious expression and wet eyes, just like his son's. "But you gotta live your own life. You can't stay all of your life in Central City because the ghosts from your past don't let you move on"

Barry said nothing, gathering strength not to cry in front of his dad. Despite his ID card saying he was almost an adult now, he sometimes still felt like the child who, woke up and saw the yellow and red lightning fighting each other around his still-alive mom in the Allens' living-room. Henry noticed that and decided to change the subject.

"What about Iris? Has she gotten her letter too?"

Henry smiled when he noticed the sudden change in his son's features.

"Yeah. She's been accepted in Metropolis"

"Wow! Metropolis, uh?" Barry nodded. "That's far from here".

"I know" Barry sighed "But everyone knows Metropolis has a great journalism program, and you know Iris"

Henry smiled. He opened his mouth to continue the conversation, but before he could say anything else, a guard appeared on the door to tell them Henry had to go.

"I have to go, slugger" Henry said as he was getting up from the chair and the guard was nearing him. "I love you, son"

"Love you too, dad"

Barry watched with tears coming out of his eyes how Henry was being taken away from him, just like any other time for the last years.

* * *

Joe knelt in front of the garbage can and carefully removed all of the little pieces of paper from it. While he was putting them together, he remember the rainy nights not so long ago when Iris, Barry and him sat around the coffee table in the living room and spent hours making a puzzle; some of those were hanging on the walls as if they were just another painting. From the moment he had rescued Barry from the interrogation room the day his mom was murdered and decided to take him home, he knew it would be difficult for both the kid and him; what he didn't expect, however, was being wrong.

Of course there were tougher times. Barry was a kind boy, but the first months were difficult; the kid hid his fear under a façade of indifference and anger, and it took Joe some time to get through it. Besides, Barry had never been a very popular kid at school, and even less after his family's tragedy, but Joe always stood by his side. As the kid was growing up, Joe still woke up in the middle of the night hearing his screams, and until he was fifteen he had always sat at the end of his bed until he had fallen back asleep again. Then puberty struck, and Barry was forced to deal with hormones apart from his own demons, the ones he was never getting off his back. Joe thought that by the time he finished school everything would be over and Barry would have learned to live with his demons. At first he was right; Barry had grown up to be an adult, and there was nothing that suggested where he came from. But that morning, the older man had discovered the letter, ripped in little pieces as if it had been done with anger, and Joe knew few had really change since that night.

As the older man was cleaning the sweat from his forehead with his arm, he heard the front door opening and someone coming inside the house. It didn't take him long to find out who.

"Hey Joe"

"Hey" he replied, hearing his kid taking off his coat and hanging it on the stand behind the front door.

"Where are you?"

"Kitchen" Joe replied, standing up and returning the can to his place. He had all the evidence he wanted on the countertop.

"I can't smell anything, so I guess you were waiting for me to cook someth… " Barry interrupted himself when he reached Joe and saw him standing behind the counter. The younger man still hadn't seen the letter but knew something was wrong when he saw the detective's face. "Why am I getting the feeling that I've done something wrong?"

"Because you have" Joe pointed to the letter and saw the color leaving Barry's face.

"Oh, that. Joe, I can explain…"

"Really? Can you explain to me why this letter was where it was and I didn't know anything about it?"

Barry sighed and waved his arms at Joe.

"There you got it, now you know why I didn't want to tell you anything, because I knew you'll be mad"

"Of course I'm mad!" Barry gave a startle when Joe hit the counter with the back of his hand. "You should have told me about it, instead of making me look inside the garbage bag to find out you've accepted in Gotham University!"

Barry looked at Joe with his mouth half-opened. He had been fearing that moment since he had opened the letter. He knew there was nothing he could hide from Joe, but still he had tried to get rid of all the evidences, just like any normal criminal would do out of panic. And just like any other criminal, he had just been caught by a really good police detective and a really perceptive and caring (and annoying) foster-father. So he did what any other criminal would do; he lowered his head and looked at his shoes, whose laces seemed really interested at that moment.

"I thought you wanted to go to a good university, Bear. And I know Gotham may seem a bit dark and gloomy sometimes, but it's a great city"

Barry noticed his foster-father right next to him. He didn't sound as angry as some minutes earlier, but still he moved when the older man tries to put a supporting hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want to go to Gotham" he said, still looking at his shoes. "And I know receiving the acceptance letter from Central City University is just a matter of time"

"You know?" Joe asked with a questioning tone.

"Yes, I know" replied Barry, stubbornly.

"Okay, you know. But what if you never get that letter? What are you going to do? Are you going to just throw off the board your plans of becoming a CSI?" Barry didn't reply, but this time didn't reject Joe's hand on his shoulder. "Life happens while you make plans, son. Sometimes you just have to catch the train or you'll miss it forever"

Barry turned to look at Joe.

"I know Gotham has a great program. But I just… I don't want to say 'yes' too soon."

At that moment, Joe understood perfectly what Barry was saying to him. He was the same boy full of anger and pain that didn't want the bowl full of Iris' mac and cheese, the same boy who suddenly hugged him when he had told him he was going to be by his side and he didn't need to pretend to be strong all the time. Despite the years, Barry wasn't still ready to leave everything behind.

The older man grabbed Barry's shoulders and hugged him; soon he noticed Barry's arms around him, hugging him back.

"Sometimes there is no time to waste waiting, son. It's 'yes' or 'no', there are no second chances." he whispered in his foster-son's ear. "You can't stay all of your life in Central City because the ghosts from your past don't let you move on. You gotta live your own life"

Barry froze for a few seconds when he recognized the words Joe had told him as the exact same ones his dad had told him earlier that day. But it didn't take him long to regain his composure; he stepped back and looked at Joe's eyes.

"I know. But I choose waiting"

* * *

The next weeks were filled with worries and concern for the old police detective. Every new day with no new letter for Barry made Joe's stress levels worse than the day before. He had been the one making Barry contact other universities around the country, hoping to be accepted in most of them due to the kid's perfect marks, and hoping he would accept one of them. It would have been a change of scene that would have made him good, but it seemed Barry had had other plans.

It wasn't until the third week when he recognized Barry's name in one of the letters. None of the children were at home, they had gone to spend the day at mall, doing some shopping and enjoying a movie together at the cinema, one of the lasts before Iris will have to move to Metropolis. Joe's hands trembled when he opened the envelope. When he reached the end of the letter, he laughed full of joy, his eyes full of tears.

When the children arrived home that night, Joe was at the station, working a case that had forced him to leave the house earlier in the afternoon. However, before leaving the house he had taken his time to write Barry a note and leave it on the coffee table, next to the letter. When Barry entered the house, he left Iris closing the door as he had seen what his foster-father had left there for him.

He grabbed Joe's handwritten note. 'Congratulations, son'. He felt confused at first, but then he recognized the coat of arms on the letter's envelope.

"Barry, what…?" Iris interrupted herself when she saw Barry was paying attention to nothing but the letter that was holding with trembling hands. She remained silent, waiting impatiently for just a word coming from her best friend's mouth. When that didn't happen, she took the letter from his hands and read it herself. "You've been accepted in Central City University! Just like you wanted!"

"Just like I wanted" he repeated.

He smiled when Iris threw herself to his arms, hugging him; he thanked God she couldn't see him cry. For the last few days he had started to believe in Joe's words, to the point of almost thinking about accepting Gotham's offer. But no doubt his train had arrived right on time.

* * *

Joe put the last of Barry's boxes inside the trunk; he had taken the day free to help Barry move, just like he had done with Iris a week ago. The kid, whom he had taught how to shave that summer, was waiting in the passenger's seat inside the car with his belt on after Joe had refused his help. Barry didn't understand but there was something he needed to do alone.

It was all part of a process. He had helped him move to his house after that tragic night, then he had helped him keep his ghosts at bay. He had taught him how to drive and how to shave, and he had taught him lots of other things a normal father would do, the ones his real father couldn't because he was in Iron Heights for killing Barry's mom.

When he had started to help Barry pack his things from the house, he had spent some nights watching old photos in his room after the kids were already asleep. He hardly ever had talked to Barry about that, but there had been a time when the Wests and the Allens spent the day together, watching their children playing together in the park; the time when Nora and Henry lived happily together, and he was still married to the love of his life and mother of his daughter. He still didn't understand why everything turned out wrong for everyone, but those photos helped to remind him of that time when life was easier and less painful.

When Joe made sure the last box didn't move, he grabbed the inside pocket of his jacket with a hand and took something from it. A photo with four happy faces. The Wests and the Allens, together in brighter times. He sneaked a peek at Barry to make sure he wasn't looking at him, and then he partially opened the last box and put the photo there. He felt sad thinking he wouldn't be with Barry when he saw the photo, but on the other hand he wanted it to be a surprise, and something intimate. Barry had suffered too much in his life, not just for a kid but for a normal person too. After so many bad surprises, he deserved at least one that wasn't bad.

Joe closed the trunk and got to the driver's seat, closing the door after him. He looked at Barry, who was looking at him in anticipation.

"You ready?" he asked

Barry nodded, smiling. Joe smiled too. There was going to be hard being at home alone, on his own, after so many years with two children making him not feeling alone. Iris was too far from him; he wasn't going to get too many chances to go to Metropolis to make her a visit, or vice versa. But at least he had Barry. He had been worried when he had seen the kid wasn't ready to move on from Central City after so many years; part of him still believed he should have gone to Gotham, not worrying about anything that wasn't college. But then he looked at Barry, at his innocence despite his maturity; he had never told him and he never will, but Gotham was too dark, no matter what his old friend from Gotham, Jimmy, said. And Barry had seen enough darkness already.

Central City was happier. And it was home. Barry's home.

* * *

 **Five more chapters to go! Who's in for the ride? ;)**

 **Also, if anyone feels the need to geek out about how great this show is, feel free to PM me because it's so freaking great! *fangirling***


	6. Chapter 6

**My name is Erynion Allen and I am the slowest fanfiction writer alive. To the outside world I'm an ordinary writer but secretly I use my laziness to procrastinate and read other fanfics. And one day, I'll tap into the Speed Force and get to complete this story.**

 **That being said, I'm terribly sorry this took months to update, really - I spent my free time writing other Flash stories that couldn't get out of my head (there's so much going on this season!). As always, sorry for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **Thanks for reading! :)**

* * *

 **VI**

Joe drove all the way to Barry's apartment feeling really nervous; the last time he had felt like that was when a fifteen-year-old Iris was getting her appendix removed. That day had been a difficult one, but everything had gone well after that. He had absolutely no doubt the same was going to happen that day. Nerves were annoying, the same as stress, but as his father had always told him, feeling them marked the difference between being alive and being just another stone of another rocky path. Besides, the reason for his nerves was a really good one.

When he stopped the car in front of the door of his son's apartment, Barry was already there. Seeing him formally dressed with his child-like face made Joe smile; years have passed and Barry was legally an adult, but he was going to be his child – even more in days like that, when his nervousness made him more vulnerable, and strengthened Joe's protectiveness around him.

"Hey Bear!" Barry, who had been pacing nervously in circles, with his head lowered to the floor and his arms crossed on the chest, gave a startle when he heard Joe's voice. He looked at him but didn't smile though; Joe thought he was more nervous than it seemed. "Are you ready?" Barry nodded and took the seat next to Joe, closing the door after him, after the older man had opened it for him.

Joe had been expecting the stress of an uninterrupted twenty-minute conversation from Barry's apartment to the precinct, so he found himself surprised when he felt that same stress when the car was in complete (and annoying) silence. He gave him five minutes, one of the longest five minutes he had experienced in his life, hoping that in that time Barry would finally open up to him. When the kid didn't do that, he sighed, releasing some tension.

"I know how you're feeling, son. Really." Joe noticed Barry subtly looking at him. "This is all part of process, another big step in life. But you've been preparing for years for this, and you are gonna do great. You have a big brain and you really know how to use it. And I'm sure Singh is gonna love you". As they were waiting in front of red traffic lights, he turned his head to look at his son and give him a one big comforting smile, but Barry was looking at him serious, looking almost scared. "What's wrong?" Joe arched a brow, confused. Had something happened that he didn't know about?

"Singh". The vulnerability in Barry's face was the one thing that kept Joe from laughing.

"Come on, Bear. Don't be so hard on him, he's not that bad"

"For you, maybe. But you're used to him, you've been working together for like, I don't know, ages?"

"Hey, I'm old but I'm not that old!" his face was serious but both of them knew he had been joking. Joe looked at the road again when the light was green and the car started moving again; he continued talking after the little interruption. "Why exactly are you so scared of Singh?" his voice was full of curiosity. Barry had known every one at the precinct for ages, including Singh, since the day he had moved to live with Iris and him and had officially become one of the family, and he had never noticed anything strange whenever his foster son had had a conversation with him.

"I'm not scared, it's just… ". Joe heard Barry moving on the leather seat, making himself more comfortable. "You know, he has those dark eyes and I'm not complaining about genetics or anything like that but he seems like an eagle watching over a prey. He's always so serious that… I mean, he's not Captain Willis. And I don't wanna screw this up" He shrugged his shoulders.

"He is the captain now, of course he looks like an eagle watching over a prey". However, Joe's face was serious that time. The smile had faded when Barry mentioned his former Captain; he had been killed a day before retiring by one of the latest criminals Willis had arrested. But he understood what Barry was referring too; whereas Willis had always been close to everyone, a smile always on his face and compliments for every officer ready on his mouth, Singh was more serious and quieter, and although he had no problem to compliment other policemen after a job well done, he usually kept the thoughts to himself. "But he's not that bad, Barry. And you're not gonna screw anything up, trust me"

Barry opened his mouth to reply but his answer was interrupted when the two men saw the CCPD precinct on the distance. "Oh boy" Barry groaned. Taking a quick look, Joe noticed the kid's face was paler than some minutes earlier.

"Are you okay?" Barry nodded. Joe sighed. "Relax, Barry. Everything's gonna be fine" he gave him another one of his best comforting smiles; that time, the tension in his stomach eased a little when he saw Barry smiling back.

* * *

By the time they stepped into the building, Barry felt he had suddenly lost all ability to talk. The building he had known his whole life was suddenly much bigger and imposing, overcrowded – the only thing keeping his stress on a manageable level was Joe's supportive hand on his shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. Had he found his voice, he would have thanked him for his support, for behind there for him, and for granting him that opportunity in the first place.

The time spent inside the elevator were some of the hardest of his entire life. Joe was one of the greatest detectives of the CCPD, so of course almost everyone knew about Barry's visit to the precinct that day. Fortunately for him, no one asked him anything directly, having Joe by his side to answer all of the questions, but still that only helped to make his nervousness worse.

When the doors of the elevator opened, Barry gulped when he saw Captain Singh standing in front of them. The Captain nodded when the people saluted him, but his serious eyes were fixed on Barry.

"Here you are, Allen!" from his voice it was obvious that he didn't like to be kept waiting. Barry looked at the watch on his wrist: their appointment was due two minutes ago.

"Good morning, Captain Singh" he was more nervous than he had ever been, but tried his best to kept that hidden.

"Sorry Captain" interrupted Joe, squeezing Barry's shoulder before retiring the hand from the kid's shoulder. "We got struck in traffic over on Queen Avenue". David looked at Joe as soon as he heard him, as if he had suddenly realized Barry hadn't been alone. His face relaxed a little after Joe's explanation, but the seriousness never left his face.

The three of them made their way to David's office, but as soon as they reached the door, the CCPD Captain invited Barry in and, after that, he blocked the door to prevent Joe from doing the same. "Sorry, Joe. Just Allen and me". Barry, who had stopped before sitting on a chair in front of Singh's desk, looked at Joe almost scared; in a way, he dreaded being alone with Singh, far from Joe's protective and supportive presence. However, the door closed and Barry's fear became true.

He put his hands on his lap to stop his legs from trembling and kept his eyes on the CCPD. He remained silent until the older man sat on his chair in front of him. As he opened one of the drawers and took some papers, he looked at Barry for a second. Then he focused on the papers; once they were on the table, Barry recognized one of them as his résumé.

"I imagine you must be nervous, Mr. Allen" Barry didn't reply; he kept looking at Singh, who was distractingly looking at Barry's resume. "There's no need to be. I don't need to be Joe to see how bright you are. You majored in Chemistry and Physics and, well, your résumé speaks for itself". The captain slowly left it on the table, between him and Barry, and looked at the younger man's green eyes. "But I need _more_ than this, or I wouldn't be talking to you right now. So tell me, Mr. Allen: why did you become a CSI?"

For a moment, the two men just looked at each other. Barry saw the Captain's eyes on his, analytic, critical. Barry wanted to make himself more comfortable on the chair, but he didn't move; most of his discomfort was inside his mind. His family tragedy has followed him all his life, wherever he went, whatever he did, whenever it was, but it didn't make things any easier. However, he also knew that was his only way to fulfill his plans, the ones he had been working on since he was eleven.

Finally, Barry opened his mouth.

* * *

Joe had been looking at his computer screen for the past twenty minutes, his chin resting on the back of his left hand whereas the right was continuingly scrolling the mouse wheel. He had been supposedly checking some reports of some recently reopened old cases, but he hadn't read a word of what had been on his screen.

Barry and Singh had been inside the Captain's office for twenty minutes; voices inside could still be heard, but it was too far to understand what they were saying. At least, Joe thought, there had been no yelling, so it couldn't be going too bad. But still, he thought, full of concern, twenty minutes was too long for a job interview…

"Hey, Joe" the detective gave a startle when he heard his name, and turned to the man calling him. His partner, Fred Chyre, was standing in front of him, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

"What's up?"

"I'm gonna grab some coffee. My head will explode if I read another of those reports" Chyre rolled his eyes. "Are you coming?"

"No thanks, I can't" Joe politely declined, shaking his head. "No coffee for me until I'm done with this Richardson" he shifted in his chair and waved a hand at the screen. His eyes, however, were fixed on Captain Singh's door, still closed.

"You know you can't lie to me, partner" Joe met his partner's eyes, which were full of empathy and concern. "I'm sure he's doing fine. Barry is a really smart kid, and you know Singh doesn't waste his time if he doesn't need to" Chyre gave him a half smile before leaving Joe alone with his thoughts. This was what Barry had been preparing for for the past years, and even though there were many defeats to take in life, what would happen if his Captain put an end to Barry's dreams?

So instead of joining his partner at the vending machine and clearing his head, he stood on his desk, his gaze lost on the computer screen without seeing a word, thinking about what could or could not happen with his foster son. As he was on alert mode, he noticed the moment when the handle of Singh's door was turning and, by the time Barry and Singh were coming out of the room, he was on his feet and heading towards them.

"We'll be in touch, Mr. Allen" Singh extended his arm and offered Barry his hand to shake.

"Thank you for your time, Captain" Barry extended his arm and shook the Captain's hand, visibly more relaxed than twenty something minutes later.

Singh gave the younger man a polite half-smile and nodded to Joe before locking himself inside his office, closing the door behind him. Joe took that as a sign to begin his interrogation.

"How did it go? Did you…?"

Barry interrupted him holding the hands in the air. "Relax, Joe". He lowered his hands and looked at him with a neutral expression. "I'd say it went… pretty good, actually" Barry smiled, and so did Joe. "I mean, he didn't tell me anything but…" he shrugged his shoulders.

"I knew it!" Joe laughed, his eyes wet of joy and mixed feelings. According to Barry, Singh still hadn't said 'yes' to him, but that was just another step on his kid's path to adulthood; but even being an adult, the kid would always be the eleven-year-old kid in need of saving that needed him sitting on his bed to fall asleep at night – nothing would ever change that. "Come on, let's go grab some coffees. You look like you could use one"

"Thank you, Joe" Barry smiled as Joe, also smiling, put an arm around his shoulders. Despite Barry hadn't said it, the both of them knew he was thanking him not just for that coffee, but for every single day since the one he went to live with Iris and him.

"Anytime, son". Things have never been easy, but he had never given up on any of his kids, and he never would. He knew they still needed him as much as he still needed them.

Joe led the both of them to the elevator while the two men exchanged words and talked happily about what was to come. Their smiles never left their faces.


	7. Chapter 7

**I didn't keep you waiting for months this time, yay! Sorry for any mistakes; I did check this time but it's almost 3AM so...**

 **Thanks for reading, following and/or favoriting, and especially thanks to _silverwolvesarecool_ 's amazing review to my previous chapter :)**

* * *

 **VII**

Joe ran upstairs to Barry's lab with his hands holding a folder full of papers and documents and a plastic bag with some evidence that needed to be examined as soon as possible; even though Barry was just a forensic assistant, he was one of the best the CCPD and he knew he would do his job efficiently, which would save him time that would hopefully be enough to finally put those criminals behind bars.

He spotted the kid next to the window, standing in front of the centrifuge with his eyes looking down at something he couldn't see from his position. "Hey Bar"

Barry raised his head when he recognized his foster father's voice calling his name. "Hey" Joe saw his kid looking at the folder and the plastic bag in his hand, and headed to the nearest table to leave them on it so Barry could see them. "I have something for you"

"What is it?"

"We have reasons to believe that the Mardon brothers are back" he replied while Barry approached him at the table and examined the documents of the folder.

"Do you think they could be related to the Kreisberg case?"

Joe nodded. "Apparently, there were some eye-witnesses who saw Clyde Mardon and his brother Mark stealing a car that was parked on the parallel street to Central City Bank"

"Let me guess" Barry added, leaving the folder and looking at him in the eyes while he crossed his arms on his chest "You think they may have helped Kreisberg to escape"

Joe shrugged his shoulders. "It may have all been part of the same operation. And some piece of fabric was found at the scene, but it didn't belong to anything Kreisberg was wearing"

"You want me to check if it belongs to any of the Mardon brothers" Barry said, looking at the bag that was lying on his table. Apparently it was just another piece of fabric, but that was where his forensic magic began. Joe nodded. "Got it. I'll let you know what I find"

Joe saw how Barry took the folder and put it with the evidence in the plastic bag on top of a pile with other folders and plastic bags he had next to the screen of one of the computers before returning to the centrifuge and have a look at it, seemingly checking something on the device. The older man was about to turn and leave when he saw his foster son yawning and stretching his arms tiredly.

"Okay, you know what? It can wait 'til tomorrow"

"What?" asked Barry with a confused expression. "No, no, it's fine. I'm just tired"

"I'm sure you're not sleeping well in that apartment of yours"

"What? No, it's not…"

"You can come back home whenever you want, you know." Joe interrupted Barry, looking at him in the eye. The younger man looked at him for a second before showing a half-smile.

"You weren't saying the same thing when I moved" the CSI joked.

Joe smiled for a second before his face got more neutral. "I'm serious, Bar. You can…"

Barry waved a hand as he started approaching Joe. "I know, it's okay" the younger man stopped a few feet in front of Joe. "But if I moved you would have no room to make that gym you talked about so…"

Joe couldn't help but laugh. "You got me. Just… take a break or something, you've been stuck here all day" his voice was full of concern; he had spent all day inside the precinct too (but that was another completely different matter) and hadn't seen Barry since the younger man had gotten inside the building hours ago.

Barry nodded and smiled, all kindness and sweetness, his eyes full of light. Joe patted his arm before leaving the lab, noticing Barry was heading towards the centrifuge again.

* * *

As soon as Joe left, Barry resumed his occupation, not even once glancing to the centrifuge that was standing next to what had been requiring all his attention whenever he could. He had seen it that morning on his way to work; at first he hadn't even looked at it, but destiny, because he had no doubt that was what it had been, had had other plans – as soon as he recognized the dark figure appearing in one of the photos and read the headline that accompanied it, he had taken the newspaper between his hands.

The headline mentioned something about the death of a criminal escaped from Iron Heights, a too-familiar prison for him, but most important was the photo, where, despite the pixeled effect and the lack of light to distinguish almost anything, he could see a man dressed in dark green pointing an arrow to an unrecognizable and smaller dark figure.

As a scientist, he knew different theories that argued about the different emotions elicited by exposing the human eye to different colors. He believed that too. Red had always been his favorite color and made him feel brave and determined, whereas anything yellow had provoked him rejection and anger (and fear) since he was eleven. And, since the previous year, green had emphasized its feeling of hope and faith on him, as the Starling City Vigilante had appeared in the city, fighting crime with just amazing combat skills and wielding bow and arrow. Of course there were some people (most of them) who saw him as another criminal instead of a savior, but Barry, as a man of science, trusted numbers – and those spoke for themselves: in a year, Starling City's crime rate had shifted from that of cities like Gotham to one similar to National City. It wasn't the same rate Central City had, but it was something remarkable.

That Vigilante had become a hero, and not one scientifically speaking as Harrison Wells, but a true hero, like those of the ancient legends and medieval stories. Those were heroes who fought for justice against all odds and still managed (most of the times) to accomplish their missions – as the Vigilante had done. Looking at the newspaper, it said that he had taken care of a criminal known as The Count, who apparently was related to a dangerous drug that could be found in the darkest alleys of the country.

What if justice was not in the hands of the police?

What if it was in someone else's?

What if the man in green was the miracle he had been waiting for for years?

What if that Vigilante was the one able to find the man in yellow?

What if he was the only person on the planet able to give his father his freedom back?

What if he was the only one who could make his life whole again?

What if that Vigilante was the key to get his (remaining) family back?

A beeping noise startled him; Barry's first reaction was to look at the entrance, expecting to find another policeman asking him to process some other evidence of any other crime. But there was no one there apart from himself. The CSI looked at the centrifuge and got to work, taking the vial from the machine with a gloved hand and going to the desk to check some notes on his papers and the computer.

Once he was done, one hour later, he leant his back on the back of the chair, sighing after having finally successfully finished another job. "Two done, two to go. Yay", he murmured with no enthusiasm. With his free hand, he took his red mug and sipped the delicious dark brown liquid, coffee, he had poured inside some minutes ago. It was still hot and helped him clear his mind. He glanced at the pile of folders who were next to screen before glancing at it.

He was an adult. He had his own (rented) apartment, and a stable job that he loved. He had a serious and strict but also reliable Captain. But he also had a father unfairly rotting in a high-security prison. And a second hero, one which he idolized and who never knew he even existed, saving lives and preventing crimes just six hundred miles from him.

Life was made of decisions. As Joe had told him countless of times, sometimes there was no time to waste waiting. He had been more than ten years filling a box with newspaper cuttings and studying every word, every blank space, while waiting for a miracle that hadn't happened yet. Meanwhile, time kept passing. Some trains arrived while others left, some of them forever – and it was in those occasions when he had to think whether he should keep waiting or catch it. Sometimes it was either yes or no.

At that moment, he realized he had already made that decision years ago.

* * *

Barry laughed at Iris' last joke. Like every time they skypped, they had started talking seriously about something and ended up laughing out loud and joking about it. That night's topic had been Iris' dissertation.

"I just… I mean, do you think someone's gonna take it or something?" Barry was still trying to control his laughter. "It's a dissertation, Iris! Not a diamond or…"

"It shines bright like a diamond though"

Barry got suddenly serious and looked at Iris with confused eyes; the girl hadn't stopped smiling as if she knew something Barry didn't. Then, Barry got the reference and started laughing loudly. His laughter became a cough when he saw the clock and realized it was way too late – he had noticed since he was a kid that every minute spent in Iris company felt like a millisecond, so the hours they had been talking to each other via Skype felt for him as just thirty minutes at most.

"Are you okay?" asked Iris, full of concerned, while Barry was trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But I have to go; it's too late and…"

"It's not even midnight, Bear. Come on, you know we usually stay until at least one-thirty…"

"I'm sorry" he truly was; her sad eyes made his heart ache as if it hundreds of needles were being stuck into his heart. "But I just can't" he realized he had screwed up when he saw Iris face.

She looked at him critically, trying to read through his eyes while Barry openly looked away. He wasn't planning on telling anyone about _anything_ , but he hated lying to Iris – they had always told each other everything.

"What are you hiding?"

Barry looked at her. She was looking at him with serious, half-closed eyes and furrowed brows – she reminded him so much not of Joe but of Detective West. Barry wondered what would have become of Iris if Joe had let her go to the Police Academy.

"It's just…" he bit his lip, unsure. Iris waited in silence. Barry finally sighed and made himself comfortable in front of the computer. "Is Joe home?"

"No, why?" she looked confused. "Have you…"

Barry didn't hear what Iris said; he got up from the chair, disappearing from Iris screen while he went in search for her answer. When he showed the front page of the newspaper to the webcam, Iris face relaxed.

"Oh. So that's why" she sighed.

"What were you expecting?" asked Barry arching a brow.

"But Barry…" she continued, ignoring his question. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean… First, he is a man that goes through the city shooting arrows to people and killing them"

"Okay" he interrupted, raising his hands in the air. "A, he doesn't _always_ kill them, and b, he only shoots arrows to a very selected group of really dangerous people"

"Yeah, but…" Iris continued. "Even if what you say is true, Barry. That… man obviously doesn't want the world to know who he really is. Do you think he is going to take that hood in front of you just like that?"

Barry opened his mouth and shrugged his shoulders, making time to come up with the perfect answer. But it never came. Instead, he exhaled and shook his head.

"Just… don't tell Joe I'm leaving, okay? I'm sure he won't like it" he showed an ironic smile. He loved Joe, and in those years he had become a second father to him… but that only made matters worse, as it hurt him even more that Joe didn't believe him when he said his father was innocent – that was why he never talked about that in front of Joe, because he didn't want to start an argument.

"Are you leaving, like, tomorrow?" Iris asked confused and surprised.

"Yup. In the morning. I'm taking the eight o'clock train"

"And… what about the precinct? What about Singh?"

"Okay, so here's what I had thought. You tell Joe that I'm sick and, I don't know, hugged to the toilet or something, so he can tell Singh I called in sick. Then you only have to make sure Joe doesn't realize it's all a lie" Barry gave Iris a half-smile but it faltered when he saw her face. "What?"

"I'm glad you told me everything because otherwise everything would have gone wrong and my father would have known before you finished packing" there was no reproval nor anger, just empathy and kindness.

"I can't thank you enough" Barry replied, smiling.

They finished the call after that, Iris wishing Barry to find what he was looking for before saying goodbye. Barry turned off the computer and got up from the chair, decided to finish packing. He had the trolley open on top of the bed, with all the shoes and clothes needed inside it.

"Starling City, here I come"

* * *

It felt strange, Joe thought, arriving at the precinct in the morning without having the need to go upstairs and meet Barry at his lab. That morning during breakfast, Iris had told him that Barry wasn't feeling like himself during their Skype chat the previous night. Of course he had blindly believed that – the days when Iris and Barry openly lied to him was over, and he had seen his son more tired than usual the previous afternoon.

What he hadn't expected, though, was to get no word from Barry. He spent all the morning calling him, at different times, from eight to eleven, and all he heard was that his son's phone was off or out of range – was that why kids had phones nowadays, so that they had them turned off and no one could contact them in case there was something important to talk about?

But finally, Iris had told him everything, although not willingly. She hadn't said a word until he told her he was about to break into Barry's apartment without his consent – something which he was truly thinking about because it had been three hours without getting absolutely no sign from his kid and he was getting too worried.

"No, Dad! Wait" Iris had told him on the phone. Joe felt the nervousness and the doubt making her voice tremble, but he was too worried to wait.

"Wait for what, Iris?" his voice expressed how tense he was, sounding more Detective West-like and less Joe with each passing second. "Are you going to tell me truth, young lady, or you're gonna be grounded for a week?"

There was a moment of silence; probably the two of them remembering the same day when, years ago, when Barry and Iris were kids, Iris had also covered Barry when he went on another running spree from the Wests home.

"I'm sorry" she apologized; in his mind, he could almost see her eyes filled with guilt. "But please, don't be mad. I know where he went" to his father, she sounded like that girl from so many years ago.

Ten minutes later, when Joe's phone call with his daughter had ended (though not without him promising his daughter that the conversation wasn't over and that they would resume it when he was home), Joe sighed, rubbing his temples with two fingers while he let himself fall on the chair in front of his desk. He should have imagined it. He could. But he thought they had been over that for years, that Barry had been finally able to stop thinking like that scared eleven-year old and start thinking like the smart adult he had become – he had been obviously wrong.

"Joe!"

He raised his head when he heard someone calling his name and recognized his Captain standing in front of him, his hands on Chyre's desk – his partner had a doctor appointment that morning, so his desk had been unoccupied all morning.

"Captain!" Joe made the attempt to get up as soon as he saw Singh, but he raised his hands and shook his head, silently telling him not to. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Do you have the results of that piece of fabric from the Kreisberg case?"

Joe nodded and opened one of his drawers, taking a folder from it; Barry had given it to him the previous day before leaving, and Joe had put it there until that moment. He opened it and showed sign a document which had at the bottom line the signature of the forensic who processed the evidence.

"As you see, that piece of fabric belongs to some black waterproof jacket from a local store. Unfortunately, Kreisberg was wearing a black waterproof jacket when we arrested him. But" he added, pointing with his index finger to a particular line of Barry's report "there was a stain of tomato sauce on one of the borders with traces of human fluids. That saliva belongs to…"

"…Clyde Mardon" finished Singh, his eyes reading the paper. He raised his head and looked at Joe. "So we know that at least _he_ was involved. Excellent! Great job, Joe" he said proudly.

"Actually, sir, this is all Barry's work" Joe replied.

Singh curved upwards half of his mouth. "I know. By the way, how's Allen doing? Have you talked to him recently?"

From Singh response, Joe knew two things. One: he had overheard him talking to Iris on the phone. Two: the Captain did care about Barry, although he usually disguised it with his typically serious façade.

"I've actually just talked to Iris, sir" he replied, choosing his words carefully. Not only did he have to cover for Barry but for himself. Singh could get really pissed if he found out Barry wasn't sick but travelling hundreds of miles chasing ghosts – and the Captain would have both his heads in that case, well served in silver plates. "She just talked to Barry. He's been apparently hugging the toilet all morning"

"Next time you talk to him, tell him I hope he gets better soon"

Joe nodded and sighed with relief as soon as Singh disappeared inside his office, closing the door after him. That had been so close. And it had been something completely unnecessary, motivated just because of Barry's obsessive need to pursue dashed hopes.

Henry Allen was a murderer. He stabbed his wife through the heart with a knife, with one single but fatal blow. The forensics analyzing the scene said that it had been too precise to be a random spot: the murderer knew that hit would kill her instantly. And Henry had been a doctor. He knew how to restart a human heart, how to bring the life back to a person whose vitals had just stop, how to bring babies into the world. He knew how to save a life. But as a doctor, he also knew how to take them. He knew how to stab a human heart, how much strength to apply until the knife finally pierced the skin and got to its destination. But the worst part was that Henry Allen's son, a traumatized young adult now, had blindly believed in him without doubt when it was obvious he was not the man Barry thought. Every time Joe thought about that, he started shivering; maybe, if the police had arrived one minute later to the Allens house that night, they would have found two corpses instead of one...

The detective glanced at the photo that was next to his screen and took the frame with a hand, placing it in front of his eyes. It was a recent one, taken the previous Christmas; Barry and Iris were sitting on the couch next to each other and smiling at the camera. Just like any other day in the normal life of the Wests and Barry. Just like the normal life every kid deserved, like the one he had been trying to give Barry for more than years – something he had just found out he had never accomplished.

He looked at the smiling, seemingly-normal Barry in the photo who had his bright, green eyes fixed on his dark ones.

"I just hope you know what you're doing, son"

He clearly didn't. Despite that, he did know two things: he loved Barry as his own son, and Barry loved him too. And most of the times, he could just live happily with that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi guys! Happy Flash day! The day of the particle accelerator explosion has finally arrived to this story; there are only two episodes left to complete it so we're almost there :) Thanks for sticking with me despite the long waits between some chapters, and also thanks to everyone reading, following/favoriting and reviewing (** ** _Sarah_** **and** ** _silverwolvesarecool_** **, thanks for your kind words and the support in the last chapter).**

 **Warning: I have no medical knowledge, but I do love writing. If some parts of this chapter seem unreal, please remember this is the universe where a young adult gets superspeed after being struck by lightning, when in real life the consequences of that accident would probably have been much worse.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them.**

* * *

 **VIII**

"You're gonna be okay. Keep you eyes open"

Being a police detective had always given him a sense of prediction – a sense of foreseeing events and actions before they actually happened and, in so, being able to prevent some crimes from happening and save some more lives. But that night, he realized what was going to happen a moment too late. One second, he was standing next to his partner, the both of them pointing their guns at the Mardon brothers while the criminals were retreating to the small plane that was their only chance at freedom, far from the police. The next, a gunshot was heard and his partner grunted of pain as he fell to the floor

"Come on Fred. Don't do this to me"

Joe's right hand trying to slow the hemorrhage and never leaving his partner's neck, despite the blood flowing rapidly and staining his clothes; with the left one, he was searching for his cell phone inside his trouser's pockets, his gun already forgotten as the Mardons had already escaped. His eyes were fixed on his partner's – his eyes hurt when he saw the light, but not the fear, fading from them. Joe looked at his hand, but all he could see was red; still, he knew how to do his job and was capable of lying when it was needed.

"You're gonna be okay, partner. Just stay with me, okay?"

Suddenly, he heard a loud noise coming from the sky. Joe raised his head with confusion and surprise, although the shock and the grief were still visible on his face. One minute ago, the sky had been dark and cloudy, just like any other night. At that moment, it was as clear as any normal afternoon, an orange cloud spreading through the sky from somewhere near the city center. That wasn't normal, he thought.

He gave a startle when another loud noise was heard. His eyes went to the Mardon Brothers, who seconds earlier were almost a black point in the distance; then, he saw the plane where the Mardons had been, falling to the floor in thousands of little pieces, while the sky was still orange.

"Have you seen it, Fred? "What the hell was…?" he started, turning his face towards his partner. But Fred Chyre's eyes were already closed. "Dammit! Come on, Fred. Stay with me"

Joe ignored the fact that he noticed no pulse under his right hand and continued searching for his phone with the left. He groaned with anger when he realized his phone had broken during the previous fight with the Mardons and was completely useless, but he was quickly to react. After throwing his useless phone to the ground, out of his sight, he rummaged through Chyre's pockets searching for his and two minutes later he was already calling an ambulance.

* * *

As soon as he got inside his lab, his clothes, bag and hair wet from the rain, he threw the napkin that had been slowing down the blood coming from his nose since he had unsuccessfully tried to stop that guy from taking Iris bag with her precious dissertation. He had never considered he _always_ had bad luck, but that day he had already started to have his doubts.

After having miraculously not being fired when his captain had realized he was not sick but going after masked vigilantes in Starling City, he had challenged Singh's patience that morning when he had arrived late at the crime scene where he had been wanted. Then, when everything seemed to be alright and was standing next to Iris at the particle accelerator inauguration, some guy had decided to take her bag and Barry, knowing how much effort and time Iris had put in her work, had run after him, only to be punched in the face and thrown to the floor. Detective Thawne had shown up to save the day, but he ended up ruining _his_ when he told both Iris and him to accompany him to the CCPD - by that moment, he realized his dream to witness the awakening of a new bright future full of scientific advancements was unreachable, and he had run upstairs to his lab, seeking refuge there.

After leaving his bag on the table and his coat on the back of the chair, he turned on the TV as he took a cutting from a newspaper. After putting it on the white board behind him, he spent the next minutes just standing there, looking at the maps and the cuttings, all orderly placed by date, from fourteen years earlier until the present time.

In all that time, nothing had changed. He had made most of the decisions of his life based on the past he could never leave behind, becoming a CSI the most significant of them. He had been expecting to find, some days, _the_ clue, with which he could finally prove to _everyone_ that his father was an innocent man and that it had been another man dressed in yellow the responsible for that crime. But he was twenty-five now, and he was still chasing after the same ghosts, only to end up in another dead end.

He turned his head to the TV when he heard the reporter getting nervous, mumbling words that didn't seem right. Barry frowned and forgot about the board; by the time he stopped in front of the TV, the lights went out. He felt his heart beating really fast as he was approaching the window; he had heard the reporter's words before the power outage, but part of him still didn't believe that. That wasn't supposed to be happening, not when a man like Harrison Wells, a visionary and a scientific genius, had been the head of the project.

But it was indeed real, he realized, as soon as he saw the sky changing its color due to emissions coming from STAR Labs. He witnessed with wide eyes, full of confusion and nervousness, how the orange cloud spread through the sky, reaching every part of the city; his eyes opened even more when he saw the lightning bolts.

Acting by instinct, he approached the metal chain that hanged from the roof to close the blinds before a bolt of lightning could destroy the window and everything within reach. He was already grabbing the chain, ready to pull it down, when he noticed the liquids around him, floating in the air when they should have been inside their tubes and recipients.

His heart stopped and he noticed his body getting colder. That wasn't normal, but it wasn't the first time he saw liquid floating around him in the air - it had happened fourteen years ago, the night when his life as he knew had ended. He remembered every minute of it. How a loud noise had woken him up, how confused he had been when he had seen the water from the fish tank floating in the air, how scared he had felt when he had heard more noises downstairs, how confused when he had seen the lightning inside his house and around his mother...

...but there wasn't anyone there, he realized as he looked around the lab. It was just him, alone, in his lab, during a gigantic lightning storm on the day that could have been (but was no more) the beginning of a new era. The younger man sighed, feeling normal again, and grabbed the chain with strength after wondering what would Joe said if he was there with him - probably that after all he had been lucky of not being able to witness the inauguration of the particle accelerator.

At that very moment, he saw another bolt of lightning coming from STAR Labs. As in slow-motion, he realized it was getting closer and closer with each passing second. Then, he heard the window being shattered and the last thing he knew was the electricity getting _inside_ his body as it flew through the air.

* * *

Joe was feeling dizzy by the time the ambulance arrived at Central City Hospital, though it hadn't broken the time limit. There had been no need, as Fred Chyre was already dead before the EMTs arrived at the abandoned barn where he had been shot. The detective waved a hand at the paramedic who was offering to help him get out of the ambulance, and proved he was as fine as he could be getting out of it by himself with confident steps. Around him, the paramedics were taking Fred Chyre's already-warm corpse and wheeling the gurney inside the building, and Joe followed.

After arriving to the morgue and filling all the paperwork needed, he exited the room with the intention to call both his Captain and Fred's family to inform them of the recent events. He asked the nearest nurse for a phone and was led to her station, where she handed him her own one.

"It's me, Captain" he said with urgency and a tired voice as soon as he heard he had taken the call. "I'm in..."

"Thank goodness, Joe!" the Captain sighed with relief. "I've been trying to call you for hours. Where are Detective Chyre and you?"

"I'm sorry, Captain. We found the Mardon brothers at the barn and got into a fight, and my phone got broken in the process." as he was talking, Joe remembered Chyre's phone, safely inside one of his pockets. He took it with his free hand, but he got no response after he tried to press all of its buttons. "And Chyre's is out of battery".

"Are you okay? Where are you?" he repeated.

"I'm in Central City Hospital. One of the Mardon brothers shot Chyre and… " Joe couldn't keep talking.

"I'll call his family" said Singh with urgency but not tactless. However, Joe had realized by that time that something wasn't right, and his heart was starting to beat faster as he wondered what else could be going wrong.

"David?" he asked when the silence on the phone was unbearable after just five seconds.

"There's been an accident, Joe. All… _Barry_ was in his lab when the lightning storm started. One lightning bolt hit him and… I'm sorry, Joe. He's on his way there"

Joe couldn't find the words to say anything to his Captain nor the nurse, who had noticed the change of his face and was opening his mouth in front of him.

But Joe couldn't hear.

Joe couldn't speak.

Joe couldn't feel.

Joe couldn't breathe.

The voice of his Captain left place to no doubt; he had even called Barry by his first name, when he had never done that. The phone fell from his hand and he run to the nearest elevator. His son had been struck by lightning and his life was in danger; he was on his way there, and Joe would be waiting for him, just like he had always been.

When he arrived to the waiting room of the E.R, he recognized his beautiful daughter through red wet eyes; she was standing in front of a nurse, screaming angrily at her and not letting the scared woman go. He cleared his throat and tried to control the tears that threatened to flood his eyes before meeting her.

"Iris!" the young woman turned when she heard her father's voice and threw her arms to his neck; as her daughter cried on his chest, he stroke her hair gently with one hand while he rubbed her back in circles with the other, trying to offer some comfort and resisting the urge to cry too. He was supposed to be the pillar of the family, so he couldn't allow himself to show weakness, not in a moment like that. "It's alright, baby. I got you"

"I was talking to detective Thawne" she started after a moment, between hiccups and with her head still on his chest. "when the lights went out. We were in the dark for minutes, and then some officer arrived hurriedly and told us…" she shook her head. "They wouldn't let me in the ambulance, so the detective brought me here. But the nurse told me Bear hasn't arrived yet and I'm scared, daddy, I don't…" she was unable to talk anymore and started crying again, despite Joe's gentle shush to calm her down.

He apologized to the nurse with a look and led his daughter to a chair; even when they separated, Joe's hand never let Iris' loose.

"What do we do know, daddy?" Iris asked after a while, looking at him with wet pleading eyes. She looked as if she was just about to crumble, and Joe had to make a great effort to look in one piece.

"Now we wait, baby. Everything's gonna be fine"

Joe offered a comforting smile to his daughter, but it disappeared as soon as she leant her head on his shoulder and was unable to see his face.

* * *

The ambulance arrived to the E.R. in just twenty minutes; it was something really remarkable as the unexpected failure with the particle accelerator had provoked a power outage for fifteen minutes that had collapsed the streets and the traffic. The paramedics inside the ambulance could hear every moment the desperate calls for help coming from every part of the city, could see the people running across the streets from that blast, and the cars trying to get as far away from the city as possible.

The doors of the car opened before the ambulance stopped, and the paramedics worked around the unconscious body to get the boy inside the building the sooner the better. Time was critical, and more in patients like those; the boy was no more that twenty-five, and every paramedic had fought tooth and nail to resuscitate him _twice_. They were immune to sickness and death, they had to to survive day after day on a not-always-gentle job, but it was always harder in cases like those.

Fortunately for them, the doors of the E.R were already opened for them, with a team of two doctors and four nurses joining them there.

"What do we have?" asked one of the medics, not losing a second to examine the boy's condition with his own eyes.

"Male, twenty-five, struck by lightning" responded one of the paramedics. "We managed to resuscitate him before transport, though his heart stopped again in the ambulance, twice"

"How is he still alive?" asked one of the nurses to no one in particular.

"Okay people, let's go!"

* * *

It hadn't even been five whole minutes when Joe felt the need to get up. He was feeling like a lion trapped in a cage that was too small for him; he was slowly and painfully asphyxiating, and it was getting worse with each passing minute. With a sigh, he left Iris in the waiting room while he went to grab a coffee - not that he needed the caffeine (it would probably do more harm than good in his current state) but he felt he could use the distraction to keep the brain busy.

He was extending his arm to grab the Americano when he heard the rapid exchange of voices at the other side of the corridor. He turned his head to look, just like he had done with the patients that had been arriving since they had been waiting for Barry, but that time he felt his heart stop again - a group of medics was wheeling his son rapidly, mumbling words he didn't understand around an unresponsive and bare-chested Barry whereas his son had a mask on his face and tubes attached to different parts of his body.

"BARRY!" his voice resonated in the room as he started running towards his son, the coffee already forgotten. He heard Iris calling his name and her steps resonating behind him, as he continued calling his son's name.

One of the nurses wheeling Barry heard them and remained behind, whereas the others entered the OR with the doctors. Joe tried to enter it too but the nurse stopped him, putting her hands gently on his arms.

"Please. I need to see him" begged Joe.

"Sorry, sir. Only authorized personnel can enter the OR"

"But we're his family!" cried Iris

"I'm sorry. He's been taken care of by one of our best doctors" if the nurse was trying to give them hope, Joe thought, she didn't succeed; through the tiny window of the OR door, he could see Barry's pale body on the gurney, and the doctors working hurriedly over him. Joe didn't even flinch when the nurse took his hand. "I'll keep you updated with his condition, sir. But you need to calm down and stay in the waiting room" Without saying anything else, the nurse turned and entered the operating room, leaving Iris and Joe standing in the middle of the corridor.

"Iris, baby…" the man started as he turned his face to his daughter.

He never got the chance to finish, as Iris suddenly ran away and disappeared in the bathroom. He was tempted to go behind her, but he knew she needed her space.

He did too.

He had spent the last fourteen years taking care of Barry, trying his best to give the kid the life that had been taken from him by his own father. His nightmares had been taking him to that night, leaving him standing in the middle of that living room in front of Nora Allen's cold corpse. He saw Barry too, the eleven-year-old kid that had been too in shock to realize his coat needed buttoning. Sometimes, he even saw Barry's corpse next to his mother's, with frozen tears on his cheeks. Every time, he woke up sweating and breathing heavily, and needed a moment to calm himself down, to make his body understand that it had only been a dream.

That day, it was much worse.

That day, his greatest fear had gotten real.

That day, his son was fighting to live just a few meters next to him and he couldn't stay by his side, holding his hand and telling him to keep holding on.

That day, he had already lost a partner and he may lose a son too.

But the worst of it, Joe thought, was that, despite being a cop, he couldn't have protected Barry even if he had been standing next to him. He had been obsessed with protecting his children but when it came to nature, human beings were completely powerless, mere witnesses of the savageness and indomitable character of God's most powerful creation.

He got inside the waiting room and flopped down into an armchair before putting his elbows on his knees and rest his head between his hands. He felt helpless, defeated, hopeless and terrified.

What was he supposed to do?

"Don't do this to us, Bear. Stay with us, son. Please" he mumbled.

He noticed his eyes getting wetter and wetter, but that time, he was tired of pretending and couldn't find the strength to resist the urge to control the tears anymore - so he just let them go.

* * *

 **Also, to those of you watching tonight, have a good trip to Earth-Two! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey y'all! I had this chapter written since Tuesday, but I wanted to post it after I finished writing Chapter X (the final one, yay!). But then I watched episode 2x13 and thought "hey, if anything doesn't go as planned for team Flash, maybe it doesn't for me either" - so here is the penultimate chapter, ladies and gentlemen!**

 **This is the last oneshot from Joe's POV, so I wanted to do something special - but I don't know if it seems too angsty/boring/slow. When I first thought about writing this story, chapters IX and X were the only ones I knew exactly what I wanted them to be about; I knew where they would start and where they would end, and almost every word in-between. So for these last two chapters, I'd appreaciate more than ever a review with your opinions, if you have the time - it doesn't need to be long, just some words with your thoughts about it and how did it made you feel.**

 **I have two thirds of Chapter X written, so I may post it tomorrow if I get enough inspiration. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the previous ones. Thanks for reading and special thanks to** ** _Sarah_** **and** ** _silverwolvesarecool_** **for you reviews :)**

* * *

 **IX**

The sky was cloudy and the streets wet; it had stopped raining some minutes earlier, while Joe was still inside his car. With a sigh, he got out and headed step by step to the glass doors of the main entrance. Just like any other day for the past nine months.

It was all about routine. Get up at 7 AM, have a shower, shave, brush his teeth, get dressed and have a coffee before leaving home, and then he got inside his car. Normally, he would go from his home to the precinct or to the crime scene where he was needed, but everything had changed that night, nine months ago. Before that day, he always saw Barry at work, sometimes during lunch break when they were busy with their jobs and couldn't take time to see each other earlier. After then, he _always_ took some minutes before work to see his son; he thought the kid would appreciate it.

But Barry didn't care.

He didn't move.

He didn't blink.

He didn't smile.

He hadn't had done anything for the past nine months, apart from lying on a bed.

Joe could never forget the feeling of despair, of loss and grief and guilt and fear, when the doctor came out of the OR, looking for him and Iris. He could never forget his face, nor the nurse's, as he was telling them the news.

A coma.

Nine months earlier, in his nightmares, it had been Henry Allen the only responsible for taking Barry's life. He felt the rage, the anger, the fear, the loss, the despair. But he always woke up and saw Barry smiling, alive, and knew he was okay and it had all been a bad dream. Now, it was a bolt of lightning, as if Barry was a metal pole asking for it. And when he woke up, he had Barry waiting for him, unresponsive, in one bed of the facility that had provoked that situation.

"Good morning, detective West" a soft voice said.

"Good morning, doctor Wells" he replied to the man in the wheelchair, just like any other day - though sometimes it was one of his two assistants the one standing next to him. "Any news?"

"Everything remains the same"

Joe furrowed his brows when he saw the doctor's half-smile for less than a second. He blinked, but the smile wasn't there. Joe shook his head, unsure if he had just seen that or it had been his mind playing a trick on him. Was it the lack of sleep? Was he hallucinating?

"Is everything alright, Detective?"

Joe nodded and said no word as he made his way to the elevator, walking silently next to Harrison Wells as the man wheeled himself inside it and pressed the number after the doors closed. The detective didn't even tried to start a conversation; he wasn't there to talk, he was there to see his son - and he had found out months ago that Harrison Wells also appreciated the calm and quiet of silence.

They arrived at level six hundred and Joe walked out of the elevator. When he turned, he saw that Wells was staying behind. "Aren't you coming?"

"I'm afraid not. There's something I need to take care of"

As the doors of the elevator closed and Wells disappeared, Joe found himself alone, as he had been for the last nine months. During those months, he had gotten more overprotective with Iris, the only person keeping his insanity at bay. In less than a year, he had lost a partner and a _friend_ , and his son had been most of it in a coma. He needed to be no fortune-teller to know he would go completely crazy if something happened to Iris…

"Good morning, Detective West"

Joe turned and met a young man looking at him with a polite smile, holding a tablet between his hands. "Good morning, Cisco. How are you doing?"

The younger man shrugged his shoulders. "Just like any other day. Follow me, I'll take you to your son"

Joe offered the scientist a gentle smile; he appreciated the fact that the kid hadn't asked how he was doing because the answer was obvious and it wasn't something he liked to say. The two of them walked through the cortex, Joe asking Cisco about his work and nodding and smiling when the kid answered enthusiastically, even though Joe didn't understand a word of what he was saying.

As they entered Barry's recovery room, the detective stopped when Cisco did too; the younger man shook his head and pointed with it to the exit of the room.

"I have to… um… you know" the younger man shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. "I'll tell Caitlin to come check on him later"

Joe nodded thankfully at the young man, who gave him a sad half-smile and left, leaving Joe alone with his son. The detective took the empty seat next to Barry, the same one he had been taking for eight long months, since Barry was transferred from Central City Hospital. Sighing as he found a comfortable position, Joe extended an arm and grabbed Barry's hand carefully with his, not wanting to mess with the wires and tubes attached to the arm.

"Hi Bear" he started, just like any other morning. "It feels kind of… strange to be here. I mean, I don't even know what to say. I always end up talking to you about the same boring things"

He gave a sad laugh and stayed in that position for minutes, looking at his son's face. Every day, he had been waiting any kind of reaction that could show him Barry was not too far gone yet. Every day, he felt the same despair when he found none. With his free hand, he rubbed his face and sighed.

"I spoke to Fred's family yesterday. Eddie and I had been working a case and then we ended up having a coffee at Jitters during our break. And we were on out way out when I bumped into his youngest daughter. She was with her mum too and… we talked. It's funny, you know? At first, I always felt uncomfortable talking about Fred in front of Eddie. But yesterday it felt different, it was… okay, I guess." he shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, we both know Fred would still be my partner if it hadn't been for Mardon but… I've moved on, I guess. And his family too, it seemed. It looked like they were back in track. It's good that at least some lives are getting back to normal"

Joe stopped when his emotions threatened to overflow him. Some lives were indeed getting back to normal – but not his. It had become a never-ending-routine, day after day without changes on Barry's conditions for the last nine months.

During the first three weeks at the hospital, he had thought Barry was going to die; his heart stopped and stopped, and it kept stopping even after being restarted time after time. Despite having the best doctors of the country, Central City Hospital had done nothing to increase his hopes. Then, he had met Harrison Wells during one of Barry's crisis – the man had offered him an alternative, and despite he didn't think at the time that moving his son would do any good to Barry's condition, he had given his consent, hoping that that change was the miracle Iris and him had been praying for.

But it hadn't been.

Barry's condition had remained the same for eight months after that - his son remained in a vegetative state, unresponsive to any stimuli.

"They asked about you" he continued when he found the strength. "But I could see it in their faces, Bear. I could see what they were thinking even when they didn't uttered a word". Joe sighed. Those faces were still fixed in his minds, as if they were ready to offer their condolences. He shook his head, angrily. "Well, the world can be wrong sometimes, right?"

He remembered all those arguments with Barry throughout the years about his dad; Barry had always believed in his dad's innocence despite what all the evidences had said about that night, and the kid had always answered a sentence like that, stubbornly. Where had those beliefs led him? To a hospital bed and machines controlling he was still alive.

What if he had succeeded in making Barry move on from his past life?

What if Barry had gone to Gotham University instead of staying in Central City?

What if his son would have gone searching for another beginning in a new city?

What if his son would have left his past behind?

He remembered the few times when, as a child, Barry had told him he wanted to become an astronaut. Those were the bright days, the ones in which Joe thought his hopes had gotten true – when Barry looked happy and his smile could light up the whole house. He also remembered the kid when her mum was alive: he had always been Iris' science-nerd friend. He probably had become a scientist too, he thought, but instead of ending up in a lab, his career in physics could have landed him exploring deep space, another man on another mission exploring the universe.

He turned his face to Barry's bedside table; on top of it there was a photo of Iris and him the girl had brought there with him when he was transferred from the hospital – it was one of the photos Joe had on his living room on the coffee table, similar to the one that rested on his desk at the CCPD. Barry and Iris were smiling, like another normal day.

"Iris told me yesterday she's coming in the afternoon, after work. She had the morning shift today, poor girl. But we both know she's doing what she can" he smiled sadly. "And she's doing fine. Better than me, anyway. With each passing day she reminds me of her mother; Francine was also a strong woman" his heart hurt when he remembered his wife; there he was, talking about her to a son that hadn't heard almost anything about the woman. But despite the bad times, there had been a time when Francine had meant joy and love and wholeness in his life – and Iris _did_ resemble that Francine. "But she can't hide her feelings, son. At least not from me. I know that she misses you as much as the first day. And she wants you to come back to us. We all do"

Joe gently stroked Barry's face with one of his hands, seeking comfort in his son, as if touching him would offer the confidence he needed to know that he was still there, that he hadn't vanished (yet). Barry gave him the same answer as any other day – none. With a sigh, Joe lowered his head and looked at his watch.

"I have to go, son. See you in the evening"

Joe got up from the chair after kissing his son's forefront and headed to the elevator, where he met Cisco and Doctor Snow and said his goodbyes. The door of the elevator closed as the couple headed to the cortex, and when they opened again he was in the main floor. He exited the building and walked to his car, decided to get to work.

Just like any other day.


	10. Chapter 10

**I can't believe this story is finally completed!**

 **Thanks for reading, following and favoriting, especially to those who had been doing that since the beginning (and had had to bear the long waits between the first chapters). To** ** _silverwolvesarecool_** **and** ** _jbui223_** **, thanks for taking the time to review the last chapter, it means a lot :) if you have the time with this one (not just the two of you, but everyone in general), I'd appreaciate a review for this chapter; constructive criticism is always welcome.**

 **Warning: spoilers of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (book).**

* * *

 **X**

Barry was running, running, running. He couldn't remember how long it had been, but he knew he couldn't stop. The others were chasing after him; they were getting nearer and nearer with each passing second. When he was a child, he had never managed to escape, and the bullies had always got him after turning this or that corner. But that day, he managed to escape before they could get their hands on him.

In the distance, as he was escaping, he recognized a familiar building. One in which he hadn't put a foot for _years_. And yet there it was, just like he remembered: a green house, _his_ house, with the door open, waiting for him, as the others were approaching him. Despite his doubts (he hadn't enter that house for fourteen years, and it didn't belong to his family anymore), it still felt like home to him - the rest of the street was grey and fuzzy, but his house was high-defined and in full color.

So he ran.

By the time he entered the hall, he couldn't even breathe. The house was too bright, and it took him some time to get his eyes accustomed to the light - that was when he realized he wasn't alone in the house. A familiar figure, a _ghost_ , was sitting on the couch and had her red-haired head turned to him.

"Hi Barry"

Barry opened his eyes in surprise and shock. His _mum_ was looking at him; she was a beautiful and young and _alive_ as he remembered, her smile as comforting and happy, and her green eyes as full of love and concern.

"Mum?"

He couldn't even formulate the question. His voice didn't sound right; it was too childish. He opened his mouth and shook his head, without understanding what was happening there. He looked at his hands, smaller than he remembered, before looking down. His eyes opened more and more.

On the couch, his mother smiled at him sadly.

"You've arrived early"

Barry raised his head when his mum talked, but his hands were still in the air. Slowly, he made his way to the nearest mirror, just a few meters from him. His heart should have been beating faster than ever, due to the nervousness, the fear and the shock, but he felt nothing - just his mother's eyes on his back.

He muffled a cry of surprise when he saw his reflection.

The other Barry, the one standing in front of him, wasn't his twenty-five-year-old self. He wasn't wearing the last clothes he remember putting on, nor the same hairstyle he had had for the last five years. And he certainly didn't remember wearing that old red and yellow backpack. His eyes were bright too, but they weren't sad; his smile was genuine and wide, one-hundred-percent happy.

He was staring at his eleven-year-old self.

He looked down at his too-small hands once again. That wasn't normal. His mother was next to him, as beautiful as ever, but his mother was no more. A man in a yellow suit had taken her away from him. She couldn't be real, just a mere projection of his deepest desire.

He turned his face from the mirror and looked at his mother, who had been waiting patiently without even moving her eyes.

"How?" He was still too shocked to formulate a more complex question; even his brain, of which he could normally hear its engines working full-time, as if it were a machine, had seemingly stopped working.

Nora sad smiled widened as she got up from the couch and approached his son. "That is not the correct question, honey" she replied gently.

Barry looked as she extended her arms and took his small hands between hers; the mere touch made him shiver - it had been a long time since his mother had held his hands for the last time, and somehow, it felt like it was the previous day.

"Does dad know you're here?"

The red-haired woman kneeled in front of her son, so their eyes were at the same level. "Your dad hasn't come yet"

Barry furrowed his brows, feeling more confused than in his entire life. He didn't understand what his mother was doing there. He certainly didn't understand what her mother was talking about, or why she was standing in front of him, feeling _real_ , even when he knew she hadn't been for years. He felt powerless, frustrated and unsure. But part of him was just happy of having the chance to see his mother, happy and _alive_ , as if nothing had ever happened.

Had he just woken up from a nightmare?

Had the past fourteen years been a dream?

Was that his _reality_?

"This is _indeed_ real, Barry" replied her mother, as if she had just heard his thoughts. He closed his eyes when he felt one of her hands cupping his cheeks, leaning to the contact with urgency and need. "But your last fourteen years had been too"

Barry opened his eyes and looked at his mom's, as green as his. "I don't understand"

"I know"

The both of them remained silent and still, looking at each other. Barry recognized the love, the pride, the longing, the need and the sadness in his Nora's eyes - they were reflections of the very same emotions his were showing.

Suddenly, Barry felt overwhelmed, his eyes getting wetter and wetter as water flowed from his eyes.

That was too much.

He had spent the last fourteen years of his life looking for clues to free his dad from his and bring his mother's mom to justice. All his life's decisions had been made base on that fact, and he had been okay with that. And still, there he was, at _home_ again, with his mother, as if he had spent no years living with Joe and Iris.

The kid opened his eyes as he remembered his foster family and took a few steps from his mom, letting her hand free from his face.

"What about Joe and Iris?" he asked, ignoring the tears on his face. "Do they know you're here? Do they know _we_ are here?"

Nora shook her head, standing up and looking down at his son with an indescribable expression on her face. "There's only the two of us here, honey". His mother looked at him as he felt sadder. He had spent his whole life missing his mother and the family that was taken from him to realize that, in fourteen years, he had gotten a new family too. "It doesn't have to be this way, though"

Barry looked puzzled at his mom, rubbing a hand on his face to erase the frozen tears. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, his mom went to the living and stopped in front of the chimney; Nora turned his face to look at his son, a silent demand to follow her. When he finally stopped next to her, he looked to the object she was pointing at with her head.

A radio.

But it wasn't _just_ a radio. It had belonged to his mother's father, and his father before him. It had known more world than most of the human beings, travelling from Ireland to the States, from there to the UK and Spain before returning to the States again; there, it had known not only Central City, but Starling and Coast City too. It had known times of war and times of peace, and through his speakers, his mother's family had heard, generation after generation, all kind of stories about cities discovered under water and meteorites from space ruining fields and crops.

Extending one of his arms, Barry turned the radio on. He had been expecting to hear something, and he felt disappointed when all he heard were interferences.

"I can't hear anything" he said, turning off the radio.

"Are you sure?" asked Nora. She kneeled in front of him again. "You need to listen not with your ears, Barry," she put a hand on his chest "but with your heart". After smiling at his son once again, she stood up. "Try again"

Sighing, the kid did as he was told. He turned on the radio again, hoping to end up with the same results than the last time. He peeked at his mother, ready to tell her 'I told you so', but the woman was looking at him with anticipation with her arms crossed on her chest. Barry rolled his eyes and focused on the radio; it looked just as any other radio.

Then he closed his eyes.

At first, all he heard were interferences. His mother had told him to hear with his heart, but the sound, that horrific sound, was only entering his body and his brain through his ears, and making his brain numb. He didn't understood why his mother had taken him to the radio when he had asked her about Joe and Iris - sure, they had a radio too standing on the chimney, one more modern than that that had belonged to Joe's mother Esther before her death; he could almost see it, standing on the chimney, in Joe's living-room, surrounded by all kind of family photos, in most of which appeared Barry, smiling happily at the camera, alone or next to Joe, Iris or both.

He missed them so much…

" _Hi Bear_ " Barry gave a startle when he recognized Joe's voice. He opened his eyes and looked at his mom in shock as Joe kept talking. " _It feels kind of… strange to be here. I mean, I don't even know what to say. I always end up talking to you about the same boring things_ "

Barry frowned, confused. "Joe? Are you there?" He looked at his mum with the same puzzled expression. "Is he there?"

His mum just looked at him with an indescribable expression, though Barry knew his mother enough to know she was hiding things from him that he wouldn't like to hear.

" _I spoke to Fred's family yesterday. Eddie and I had been working a case and then we ended up having a coffee at Jitters during our break. And we were on our way out when I bumped into his youngest daughter. She was with her mum too and… we talked. It's funny, you know? At first, I always felt uncomfortable talking about Fred in front of Eddie. But yesterday it felt different, it was… okay, I guess. I mean, we both know Fred would still be my partner if it hadn't been for Mardon, but… I've moved on, I guess. And his family too, it seemed. It looked like they were back in track. It's good that at least some lives are getting back to normal_ "

Joe remained silent, a time Barry was thankful for to put some order in his thoughts. Since when did Joe refer to Detective Thawne as Eddie? He had always been Detective Thawne or Detective Pretty Boy, depending on Joe's mood. And he didn't understand what had Detective Chyre to do with anything of that or even his family. But there was something in Joe's voice that scared him - he sounded _so_ sad, as if he were a cracked vase that could break with just a single touch.

He remembered the nights when Joe had arrived home broken, after leaving the precinct while working in a difficult case. He couldn't see Joe now but his voice sounded similar and he remembered the lost expression and the unfixed eyes that accompanied it. Iris and him were the ones who took care of the situation; they usually led Joe to the living room and made him sit on the couch, and then they sat next to him and watch a movie, the three of them together. The first minutes, Joe was still lost, his minds far away from the house and from them, but then, as if a switch was on, he joined them and talk about the film with the kids.

But that wasn't like that. He didn't know where Joe was, but he was _far_ \- he couldn't just extend his arms to him and give him the hug he knew his foster father needed. And his heart hurt knowing there was nothing he could do to comfort him.

" _They asked about you. But I could see it in their faces, Bear. I could see what they were thinking even when they didn't uttered a word_ ". Joe sighed; Barry exchanged looks between the radio and his mum. " _Well, the world can be wrong sometimes, right?_ " Joe said, sounding angry and challenging.

Despite the sadness in the Detective's voice, Barry couldn't hide a (sad) smile when he heard the last sentence. That had been very familiar - it was what he had always said to Joe during the countless arguments they had had throughout the last fourteen years about his father's innocence. Barry had always believed in Henry; he could never forget the despair in his eyes when he saw the lightning around Nora, standing right next to his son. Joe had, of course, believed what the evidences said - he was a cop, after all.

"He sounds so sad" Barry said, looking at his mum.

"He is" she replied, nodding slowly.

Barry continued staring at Nora. Since when had she become so cryptic? The Nora he remembered had never been so sparing with her words - but the Nora he remembered was also dead, and that one was very much alive.

"I want to help him"

"You can help him"

"How?"

He waited impatiently, almost pleadingly, for his mother's answer. However, the woman didn't utter a sound; instead, she pointed to the radio with her head.

" _Iris told me yesterday she's coming in the afternoon, after work. She had the morning shift today, poor girl. But we both know she's doing what she can._ _And she's doing fine._ _Better than me, anyway. With each passing day she reminds me of her mother; Francine was also a strong woman_ "

Barry was surprised to hear about Iris' mother - during the fourteen years he had been living with the Wests, Joe had only talked about her on three or four occasions at most. He remembered the nights staying awake until late with Iris, when he was sad looking at his family photos and Iris took another album and starting showing him the photos of her family. Francine had been a beautiful woman, but although Iris physically resembled her mother, it was obvious to him that she was Joe's daughter.

He imagined Iris, working tirelessly behind the counter, serving drinks and radiant and genuine smiles to the waiting customers. Barry smiled unconsciously; just thinking about Iris and her amazing smile put him in a good mood, despite the weird feeling inside his stomach, multiplied by a thousand when her big bright eyes were fixed on his. And when she laughed? It was like sitting in the front row to witness the Big Bang of the universe.

"She's an amazing girl, Barry" Nora smiled, as if she had just heard his thoughts again. Barry blushed.

" _But she can't hide her feelings, son"_ Joe continued, giving Barry the perfect excuse not to think of a reply to his mother _." At least not from me. I know that she misses you as much as the first day. And she wants you to come back to us. We all do_ "

"'We all do'? What does he mean?" Barry asked. He froze, opening his eyes widely, when he felt a _hand_ stroking his face. There was no one there, apart from his mum, who had been standing next to him and hadn't moved from her position. "What's going on?"

" _I have to go, son. See you in the evening_ "

"Joe?" Barry asked, looking at the radio. "Joe? Can you hear me?" Nothing came out of it. Just silence. But Barry was too stubborn to give up yet. "Joe?!"

"He can't hear you, sweetheart" she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Why?" he asked stubbornly.

"It doesn't work that way"

"'It doesn't work'...?" Barry shook his head, placing his eleven-year-old hands on his temples. "I don't understand"

He had been happy to see his mother that, for a moment, he had ignored that nothing made sense; he was not eleven-years-old anymore, he wasn't that small either, and his voice didn't sound like that since before puberty. But he had put all of that aside when he had seen Nora, because she was his mother and that had been all he had dreamt for for the last fourteen years. But hearing Joe, so desperate, so sad, so _broken_ , feeling him so far away, had made him return to reality.

Joe had been the man who had tried to make him understand that he couldn't base his life on vague dreams and vain hopes, and yet there he was, decidedly assuming that that atypical situation was _normal_ just because her mother seemed okay.

In an instant, he remembered two scenes of the last Harry Potter book. In one of them, Harry met his dead family and friends thanks to the resurrection stone minutes before going to face his own death at the hands of his parents' killer (not a man in yellow, but Lord Voldemort) - it is them who give him the courage he needs to assume his own mortality, a destiny he necessarily had been obliged to meet since he was a baby. In the other, Harry went to a kind of limbo after his encounter with Lord Voldemort. He went to a familiar place with a person who was very dear to him: professor Dumbledore; he was the one telling the younger boy that the fact that that was happening inside his head didn't mean it wasn't real.

Then Barry understood.

"I am dead" he said to his mother. It was not a question.

"Are you?"

"I mean..." Barry continued as if his mother hadn't talked. "It makes sense, doesn't it? This is why you are here. This is why I am like this" with his hands, he pointed at his eleven-year-old body. "This is why we are in _this_ house" He noticed his cheeks wet, water falling rapidly from his eyes. Barry didn't remember what had happened before that to end up being _dead_ , but he could see everything else pretty clear at that moment. He remembered that in one of the Star Trek films, as well as in Doyle's novels, they said that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth - and being dead was the only logical explanation that actually made some kind of sense.

Nora took Barry's hand and led him to the couch. She sat just like when Barry had entered the house, but the kid remained on his feet. With her other hand, she cupped Barry's face and cleaned the tears with her thumb, her eyes full of love, her smile sad.

"Listen to me very carefully, Barry" she whispered slowly, not without gentleness. "Nothing is going to change my destiny. Do you understand?" Barry nodded, the tears preventing him from talking. "But that doesn't mean you have to stay here _now_. You have a _choice_ , son"

"But I need you, mum" Barry pleaded, closing his eyes and leaning to his mother's contact.

"But you need Joe and Iris. And your father" Nora smiled sadly to his son when he opened his eyes. "And they need you too, you know that"

Barry nodded, crying silently; his face felt hot but the most uncomfortable feeling was in his heart. He had always wanted to have a complete family, without dismemberments - making a choice between a life with his mum or a life without her would leave it incomplete, no matter what he chose.

"Why do I have to choose?" Barry asked, frustratingly. "Why can't you come with me?"

"Because that's not my place to be. Not anymore" she stroked his cheek with a thumb. "But I need you to understand something, Barry. No matter where you are, I am _always_ with you"

Barry looked at his mom, at those big bright green eyes that had once been so full of life. He jumped into her arms and hugged her with all his strength, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply so that his mother's smell could be retained in his nose as long as possible. His mother had always smelled of vanilla and cinnamon; it was as sweet as it was soothing.

When they separated, Barry saw his mum taking his hands between hers for the last time.

"Go live, my beautiful boy. When the time comes, we'll see each other again"

Barry sighed and, inhaling deeply, he got away from the living-room; he noticed his mother's eyes on his back but he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave if she turned to see her one more time. So instead, he headed to the hall and extended his arm to the front door.

When he was about to open it, a sound came from upstairs.

 _"I wanna hold em like they do in Texas please, fold em let em hit me raise it baby stay with me, I love it..."_

A song.

 _"Luck and intuition play the cards with Spades to start, and after he's been hooked I'll play the one that's on his heart..."_

"God, I love that song!" he whispered.

He turned to the stairs, forgetting about the front door, and as he was reaching the second floor he heard the song louder and louder - he even played back the last lines. His musical likes were very rich, from old songs his parents or Joe loved, to the modern ones Iris or he listened to on the radio; from those last ones, Lady Gaga was one of his favourite singers. Not only did she sing well, but her songs were also very danceable.

Barry followed the sound of the music until he reached the closed door of his former room. Despite the darkness of the corridor, a white too-bright light filtered from the space between the door and the floor; he could also hear two voices, though he didn't recognize whom they belonged to.

"What are you doing?" asked a woman with a strict voice.

"He likes this song" answered a man.

"How could you possibly know that?" it was obvious to Barry that the woman didn't believe the other guy.

"I checked his Facebook page. I mean, he can hear everything, right?"

"Auditory functions are the last sensory faculties to degenerate"

Barry didn't know what those strangers were doing _inside_ his room, playing one of _his_ favourite songs that he had actually posted many times on _his_ Facebook page. He felt stalked; it was good for them that Joe wasn't there because in that case he would have had no doubt to tell him everything and those people would have been in trouble. However, not having Joe there meant he had to take care of things by himself - so he extended his arm and opened the door, closing his eyes instinctively to protect them from the light.

When he opened them again, he realized he was lying on something. When had he fallen? He didn't remember that. Also, he didn't remember taking his clothes off, and he certainly didn't remember having so many machines attached to his body.

He exhaled deeply as he got himself in a sitting position; in front of him there was a young Latino guy, from about his age, looking at him as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Where am I?"

* * *

 **That's all folks!**

 **When I got into The Flash fandom, this was the only idea I had for a multi-chapter story, so if any of you had any ideas, feel free to send me a PM with your suggestions, prompts, etc. I would love to hear from you, even if it's just to geek out about the series ;)**


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